


From The Gods

by Macchiato_Dreaming, MJayN



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, I'm usually better at tagging I swear, Some Plot, Work In Progress, bless AO3, buckle up for an adventure, its a recent addition, we're about to add another loki/oc to the 4.6k that are already on this site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macchiato_Dreaming/pseuds/Macchiato_Dreaming, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MJayN/pseuds/MJayN
Summary: Though it's been two years since New York, the earth still needs protectors. She never thought they'd want her.And she never, ever imagined the notorious villain of New York would become her closest companion.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. Natalie Rushman

Charlotte hopped over to the door, trying to keep her bare feet off the cold wood floor as long as possible. Who could be calling at this hour? It was nearly 2 a.m. and dark and cold as could be. She peeked through the peep hole in the middle of the door and, seeing only a single woman, cracked the door open.

“Hello?” she asked, giving the stranger a once-over. Red hair, dark eyes, caucasian with just a touch of foreignness and a slim build. She was beautiful, in an athletic sort of way, and Charlotte was reminded of all the New Years resolutions to exercise that she hadn't quite kept up with.

“Hi, Iva Hamilton?" she nodded. "I’m Natalie Rushman. I work with the CIA and I’ve been asked to get an update on you. May I come in?”

Charlotte blinked. “Oh, nobody’s been by for that since I was 10,” she replied, swinging the door open and shivering at the gust of cold that twined around her shoulders like a mantle. “Come on in! Oh, and I usually go by Charlotte.”

Natalie stepped inside with a warm smile and slipped off her shoes. Charlotte noted the dark blue converse with a smile of her own. The CIA were not, in fact, always dressed in dark suits. 

She led the way to the living room, where a hot drink and a book laid in wait for her return. Setting aside the latter, she reached for the electric kettle and poured another cup of tea for her guest before getting comfortable. “It’s kind of a weird time to do a check-in, don’t you think?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been beyond busy and I would have left if you didn’t answer the door. I’m actually here with an opportunity,” Natalie said casually, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“What do you mean?”

“In light of your… potential, a branch of our service would like for you to join a specialized task force designed to defend our world against other-worldly threats, should the need arise. You would be trained with your team for a given period of time and then potentially returned to your normal life, if you choose, until you’re called upon to serve.” She sipped her tea. 

Charlotte, once again, blinked. “Um. You want me to be a secret agent?” she asked.

“Not quite. More like part of a dormant defense system, given the recent alien invasion two years ago.”

She recalled the state of New York City with a shudder, blaring news headlines and gritty footage. “So you want me to be a superhero.”

“You could say that,” Natalie chuckled. “If you agree, I’ll have you sign some documents legally binding you to secrecy on all matters related to the task force.”

"I," Charlotte pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, staring at Natalie. “I have a job, you know. A life. I can't just...”

Natalie smiled softly. “Charlotte, you must know that we keep tabs on you. We know exactly what your ‘life’ looks like. Forgive me, but you wouldn’t exactly be leaving anyone behind.”

Charlotte sighed. Natalie wasn't wrong. “Cards on the table?” she asked. Natalie nodded. “I don’t know if I could ever be of use. I could never harm someone else.”

“And you may never have to," her guest acquiesced. "But when it’s between hurting an alien or losing your planet, I think you’ll be able to choose.”

Charlotte fell silent. A dilemma between morality and supposed obligations, wrapped up neatly into an offer that was more of an ultimatum than anything. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

“Tell you what," something like pity shone in her guest's eyes, and Charlotte felt like she was small again. "I’ll call you at the end of the week. That’s 4 days from now. Deal?”

“Deal.” 

The next four days would be too fast, she knew, but even four years wouldn't make a decision like this any easier.

***

Charlotte sat cross-legged in the summer grass, weaving the stems of two flowers together.

The sun warmed her all the way through. The flowers were blooming and the birds were singing a sweet soprano in the trees, bringing a smile to her face. All week she’d been stressing and struggling at her job. She was a teacher, and her students could tell something was off. So she told them. She told them she had a really amazing opportunity at a new job, that she didn’t know if she could leave them. But, just as they always did, her wonderful 12th graders supported her, loved on her, and pushed her on to better things.

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” Charlotte said to her companion. “I wouldn’t be leaving anyone behind. And it’s not like my job is super important. But what if I hate it? What if I can’t do it? I’ll bet the other ‘team members’ are guys. Then I definitely won’t be able to keep up.” She sighed and looked up at the fluffy white cloud, floating across the sky with the wind. “I know, I know. I’ll be defending my home. It’s my duty. It’s why I have this gift.

"It’s just that… I don’t know. What if they hate me? You remember how school went, don’t you? It was awful, it was… oh gosh, I sound like I’m sixteen.” Charlotte softly placed the flowers in the grass at the base of the gravestone she accompanied. She kissed the top of it and stood. “You’re right. It’s not about me. It’s about everyone else.

"...Thanks, Mom.”


	2. Partners

Charlotte climbed out of the black SUV and stepped out in front of a large business building. She was reminded of those skyscrapers in the city that were a pain to get around in— actually, it was a pain to get around the city in general. It was a small blessing that this facility was closer to the middle of nowhere. She still wasn’t totally sure what this whole thing entailed, but she spent the whole ride there steeling herself and reminding herself that she would be okay.

“This way,” Natalie called, gesturing toward the building. Charlotte jogged to catch up, lugging a small suitcase behind her. “The movers will bring the rest of your things soon. For now, let’s get you settled. The living quarters are on the top floor, along with a kitchen, living area, and game room. Each dorm has its own bathroom and closet, so you don’t need to worry about that. However, you’re going to be partnered with someone who will room across from you. I’ll introduce you as soon as you’re settled.”

“How many others are on the team?” she asked, following Natalie out of the elevator and onto the modern concrete floor.

“There are eight people in total, including you. I wasn't allowed to tell you this before, but I’m also on the team.” They turned a corner and Charlotte froze. Natalie turned with a smirk on her face. “Oh, and… we’re not from the CIA.”

There on the wall hung a large, grunge-style LED sign in the shape of a very famous capital "A". Natalie walked into an empty room and Charlotte burst after her.

“You signed me up to be an _Avenger_?” she exclaimed, dropping her coat and luggage. Natalie laughed.

“I had to keep it under wraps until you made the choice on your own,” she replied. “We didn’t want anyone else going after you, and we didn’t want to coerce you with any expectations.”

“You signed me up to be an Avenger,” Charlotte repeated dumbly, running a hand through her hair. “Wait, so… what’s your real name?”

“Natasha Romanoff,” Natalie— no, Natasha— grinned. “Now, the moving people should be up here any second, so I suggest you start figuring out where you want things.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I feel insignificant.” Charlotte blew air from her mouth, overwhelmed by the revelation. This was a lot more than she signed up for. She wasn't prepared for THAT level of craziness. How could she keep up with the Avengers?!

“You’re not,” Natasha flipped on the lights. “There’s a reason we wanted you. And you don't have to hide here, either.”

“Um, well," she took a deep breath. "Okay. I’m having a brain fart. I guess I should start figuring out where I want things?”

“Yes, I said that.” Charlotte blushed. “I’m gonna go locate your partner and see if I can coerce him into helping you unpack. Make yourself at home and..." she leaned to the side, head tilted, and gave her a smile. "Welcome to the Avengers, Charlotte Hamilton.”

Charlotte stood in awe for a good few minutes after the senior Avenger left.

Was she excited? Yes. But more than anything, she was scared. She was scared for every reason you could think of. Scared of the job, scared of the people. Scared of failure.

A small part of her wondered what her father would think. He would probably disapprove. Claim this team wasn’t good enough. Say she didn’t need them. She should be able to do this on her own. 

"Yes, well. Seeing as I'm already here, there's no need to go at it alone."

Charlotte yelped and whirled around. Directly behind her stood a man where she was sure there'd been none just seconds before. “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, holding a hand to her chest. “You scared me to death. I didn’t mean to scream at you.”

“No harm done,” the man replied simply. She squinted at him. He didn’t look like any of the Avengers. He looked like… oh. Raven hair, though now pulled into a bun, used to hang around his shoulders. Green eyes against a background of pale skin.

But he seemed so different in his soft sweatpants and hoodie.

The man shifted out of the way as the movers began piling in, prompting Charlotte to do the same. “I was asked to help you settle in,” he said. His voice was solid, monotone, as though he was unbothered by any of the hustle and bustle around him, or even being asked to help.

“Um, sure.” Charlotte said, looking around at the ever-growing mass of boxes and bags. “That box over there is books. Can you arrange them alphabetically on the metal shelf in…” she glanced around. “that box?”

He nodded and opened the shelving unit, grimacing at its crudeness. Charlotte glanced away, trying not to stare. She spent the next hour ordering the movers around, making sure there was space to walk, and organizing the various boxes. Every so often she would cast a glance at the man in the corner organizing her books, watching curiously as he went about his task. He was methodical, graceful in his movements.

Nothing like what she’d imagined.

“Have I done it wrong?” the question broke her from her trance as she realized she’d been caught.

“Oh, no. You’re doing it right. Sorry, I was just-“

“I understand.” He stood and moved to leave.

“No! No, no, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant! I just meant, I mean, you’re like, the, the guy and I just was…” she paused and cast her eyes down, pushing her glasses up. “Curious.” She shuffled her feet and stepped forward. “I’m sorry. Can we… can we start over?” He eyed her, not sure what she meant. She sighed and stuck her hand out, cursing herself for staring. “I’m Charlotte.”

He considered her for a moment before taking her hand and quickly shaking it before dropping his own back at his side. “I’m sure you know who I am,” he muttered, meeting her eye. He seemed tired.

“I mean…" Charlotte paused, considered her words, and tried again. "I know what you did. But I don’t know you,” she hedged. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

“So it would seem,” he kept his eyes on her, as if searching for something, before coming to a conclusion and stepping back. "Call me Loki, then.'

There was little to no conversation the rest of the time Charlotte spent unpacking. At some point or another, she ended up informing her new partner that she would take it from there. He seemed almost relieved to exit the bedroom and disappear across the hall. How strange, she thought, for her life to have taken a turn so quickly into something so new.

Her mother would have liked this. _Go on, darling, make some friends!_

"You know I've never been good at that," she tells the empty room.

But that didn't stop the niggling hope in the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe, things would be different here.


	3. Stuck With Him

“So what do you think of your partner?” Natasha flopped onto the edge of Charlotte’s bed, hugging her knees to her chest and watching her finish unpacking the last box.

“He’s... quiet.” This box was full of photos. She began finding places for them, the many of her and her mom, and one of her and her dad. She put that one away in her bedside drawer, out of sight.

“That’s it?” Natasha scoffed. “You’re stuck with the god of lies and all you’ve got is ‘he’s quiet’?”

“He was respectful," she defended herself. "He just didn’t seem to want to talk to me.”

“Don't take it personally; he doesn't like most people. What’s this?” she said, holding up a necklace with two large rings hanging from it. "Feels a bit like diamond, but I don't recognize it."

“Oh, my mom’s wedding bands.” Charlotte took them and placed them beside the photo in the bedside table. "They’re from some world or other, I guess. Dad never told her.”

“Hm,” Natasha responded, eyeing Charlotte, who quickly turned away.

“So, who’s your partner?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, just the guy you probably saw on TV two years ago with the fancy bow and arrow. He’ll be around here somewhere, causing trouble.”

“How did you guys decide who partnered with who?”

“Personality, mostly," she answered absentmindedly. "Me and Clint go back a ways, so history, as well. We initially paired Tall, Dark and Troubled over there with his brother, but that turned out to be a mistake. He won’t work with anyone else, either. Or can't. I wouldn't know.”

“It was mind-control, right?” Charlotte asked. She stacked the final empty box outside in the hall with the others and came back in to observe her new home.

“Yes. His brother said he hasn’t been the same since he came out of it. Apparently Loki’s being way more cooperative, but if this is him cooperating? I don’t even want know what he was like before.”

Weird. Charlotte hoped they could find a way to get along, somehow. "I feel bad for him, after all he went through,” she admitted.

“We all did, in the beginning."

"In the beginning?"

"Before he continued to be a douchebag under his own power," Natasha clarified. "He does just about everything he can to piss Stark off.”

A moment went by where neither of them said a word. Natasha sighed and rolled off the bed to her feet.

“I should go make sure dinner is ordered or nobody’s gonna eat. Besides, you need to rest up before you meet the crew.”

"What, are they all a bunch of self-absorbed manly-men?" Charlotte joked.

The redhead rolled her eyes. "You have _no_ idea."


	4. New Home

Charlotte rolled over and blinked her eyes open. The clock beside the bed read 5 o’clock. She should probably make her way to dinner. She climbed out of bed and changed out her crappy moving t-shirt to a cute blue sweater and slipped on some fluffy socks over her gray leggings. It had been a while since she really looked at herself. Her long, light brown hair fell in a messy mess around her shoulders. Her makeup still looked okay even after a nap, so at least that was fine. She shoved on her glasses and called it good and headed down the hall. The kitchen shouldn’t be too hard to find.

She wandered slowly, looking at the odd, mismatched art along the walls. A neon sign, an eclectic texture painting, a Victorian portrait. There was even a Lego piece on one wall. It was of Iron Man. The walls were all black and the concrete floor bare, but the artwork and the warm lighting made it feel homey all the same. She began to spot other living quarters down other halls. One hall had a red door across from a plain door with some science-related memes printed out and taped on. Another had a door with plastic spiders strung along the top half across from one with a dartboard on it. A third had a grungy American flag across from a ratchet looking lightning bolt that was outlined in neon.

Finally she came out into a massive open living space with rounded sectionals in a half-circle surrounding a huge TV screen built into the wall. There were giant windows around the living area, providing a clear view of the summer sky. Beyond the living area was a kitchen; not too large, but sizeable enough for eight people. Natasha stood in the middle of it unpacking what looked like pizza she must have ordered.

“Hey, need some help?” Charlotte offered, sliding across the smooth floor.

“Sure. Didj'a get that nap in?”

“You bet. Gosh, how much pizza do these guys eat?"

“You’d be surprised. Thor can pack away two full ones himself.” Just as she spoke, a blonde man with a purposeful stride entered from a door behind the kitchen, wearing gray sweats and a navy rash guard. He nodded at her but went straight to the refrigerator and downed 2 full glasses of water. He must have been running. Natasha smiled.

“Steve, this is Charlotte Hamilton. Charlotte, this is Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you,” Charlotte said, shaking his hand and hoping that he couldn't tell her anxiety-sweat from his own post-workout sweat.

“You too. Just move in?” he asked. She nodded.

“Yeah, I just got unpacked and everything.”

“Good. Did you uh, get to meet your partner?” he asked, lifting a brow and sharing a look with Natasha.

“Mhm. He organized all my books for me. He’s nice, I like him,” she answered honestly. Steve looked a little confused for a moment, but nodded.

His eyebrows went up even higher. “That’s... a good thing. At least he’s getting along with someone.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to put in most of the effort,” Charlotte tried for a joke.

Just then, said person shuffled into the room and grabbed a paper plate, put four slices of pizza on it, and got a water from the fridge. He shared a couple of awkward looks with Charlotte before leaving the room. How odd. He seemed not to even notice Steve and Natasha.

Natasha laughed and shook her head. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

“I kind of thought he would be the… antagonistic type,” Charlotte noted, adjusting her glasses.

“You’d think so. But… something about the mind control messed him up,” Steve replied. He shrugged. “I was never comfortable with having him around, but that’s how it is.”

Charlotte chatted with them a little while longer before taking her own plate of food. She’d decided it might be good to go spend some time with her partner. Steve said it wouldn’t help and Natasha was trying really hard to be encouraging, but… Charlotte got the clear idea that they both didn’t have much faith. Even so, she marched down the hall to his room and knocked on the door.

No answer.

She knocked again. “Heya, partner. Can I come in?” she called. She heard the sound of blankets and then he was pulling the door open, looking very confused. 

“No,” he said simply. She didn’t really know how to respond to that.

“Oh,” she said awkwardly. “Did I interrupt?”

“I do not need pity,” he said with a quiet, sharp, tense tone and shut the door. Charlotte stood there dumbfounded for a moment before turning away. How was she supposed to get to know him if he didn’t let her?

Natasha had said the contract to live there was one year. Then, after she was trained, she could go back to normal life while on the bench.

At this rate, Charlotte couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Editor V here. This chapter's a bit choppy due to my dumb butt staring at it for a few hours and deciding that it could just go up unedited. Many apologies, please stay for the incoming fluff?


	5. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A criminally short chapter? Hush, now, it's part of a double update. We would _never_ starve our dear audience of content, would we, Em?
> 
> -V

She didn’t really see anyone else the rest of the evening. Natasha said they were still waiting on Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and Thor to arrive. So Charlotte retired to her room early and decided to do some decorating. She’d rented her home out while she was gone, so she had that income in place of her job, even though most of her life would be paid for by whoever paid for this building. She assumed it was either S.H.I.E.L.D. or Tony Stark. Either way, she was certainly comfortable.

She pulled out a banner made of little canvas flags hanging from it and set about doing something she’d been thinking about for weeks: gluing photos of her and her mom to every other banner. After that she strung it up on the wall her bed rest against. Next, she set about organizing her bathroom. That didn’t take long. But before she could reorganize the clothes she had so haphazardly thrown into the closet, somebody knocked at her door.

“Come in!” she called from inside the walk-in closet. She heard the door open and shut and soft footsteps padded on the concrete. Into the closet strolled her partner. He leaned against the doorframe and grimaced at the mess of clothes. “Oh, um, what’s up?” Charlotte asked, stopping to smile at him. He stared for a moment longer before meeting her gaze.

“Training begins tomorrow. You are to meet me in the gym at 9 a.m. sharp. Be prepared for physical activity.” And without so much as a goodbye he turned left, ignoring Charlotte’s call of ‘thank you.’

That was weird. Okay, so she had to figure out where the gym was. She texted Natasha— 3rd floor, right out of the elevator. Perfect.

She had her clothes organized in about an hour. For tomorrow, she set out pastel blue leggings and a white sports bra. That would be easiest to move in, especially if they asked her to use her gift. That would be the first time in a very long time she’d let someone else see it, but she was a little excited. Also a little scared. But she’s the one who’d signed the papers.

She just hoped they’d be patient… and that her partner wouldn’t be the jerk everyone made him out to be.


	6. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, unedited! I really need to come back to these sometime. Someday. When school is not busting my butt.  
> -V

“You’re early.”

Charlotte turned around from the locker and greeted her partner with a smile. “I wanted to see the place a little before we started. I went for a walk and ended up having extra time.” She finished stuffing her sweats into the locker and closed it. He was dressed in black Adidas sweatpants and a forest green t-shirt.

“Put your hair back. In battle, it’s a liability,” he said, looking her up and down. She nodded quickly and tied it back in a high ponytail.

“Yeah, I really should cut it. It’s too long,” she complained. He didn’t respond. He just looked kind of puzzled and walked over to a closet. He pulled out a pair of boxing strike pads and slipped them on. “So what are we doing? And where’s everyone else?”

“You and I are training alone today. Neither of us need to be watched. And I want to see you use whatever ability the others saw that qualifies you to be here. You won’t do that with a crowd.” He approached a floor section covered by a thick, heavily padded mat. “Come,” he ordered. Charlotte did as he said and stood there, not totally sure what she was supposed to do. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I see we are starting at the very bottom,” he said condescendingly. “Strike. As hard as you can.”

“Oh, but what if I miss? I don’t want to hit you,” she replied. That wouldn’t end well.

“You won’t miss.”

“But what if I-”

“Strike.”

Charlotte sighed. “Okaaaayyy,” she whined, pushing her glasses up her nose. She took up the best boxing stance she could muster and took a deep breath. She drove her fist into the pad. To her companion’s surprise, she forced him back two steps. His eyes lit up and a smirk crawled across his face.

“You are deceptively strong for a human female.”

“Uh… thanks, I think.”

“Show me why,” he said, again ordering her around. She scrunched up her face.

“I don’t really think-”

“If the two of us are being forced into companionship, I believe it would be best to know everything about the other. You will learn my magic in time, but for now I must see yours.” His tone was constantly condescending. Charlotte didn’t like it at all. But he wasn’t totally wrong, either.

“I really would rather not,” she said softly. “When you’re made to hide something your whole life, it’s not easy to just whip out and flaunt, or whatever.”

For the first time, he actually chuckled. “I wasn’t asking, Iva Hamilton.”

“I-I go by Charlotte, and I don’t really-”

“Loki!” A joyful exclamation came straight from the elevator as a tall, thickly muscled man entered the room. His blonde hair, contrasting his brother’s in color, was pulled back into a thick bun. He wore blue jeans and a blue sweater and brown boots. “There you are. Natasha said you were training your new partner.” His eyes shifted to Charlotte’s. “Who must be you. Wonderful to make your acquaintance. I am—”

“Thor, brother of Loki. I wondered when I’d meet you,” she said with a smile. “Your brother was just teaching me how to punch properly.” Loki’s eyes flashed to her suspiciously, acknowledging the entire conversation she left out.

“He was always the better teacher. I remember the days when-” Thor went off on some childhood story, but Charlotte was distracted with Loki. He seemed so uncomfortable. Thor had been the first person to actually say his name out loud. She wondered why. Why did Loki nervously look over his shoulder every few minutes? Why did he have scattered scars peeking out from the back of his neckline? Why did he have a slight tremor in his hands? Loki closed his eyes and sighed, seeming to push down irritation at his brother’s rambling. He seemed to grow more upset by the second “-and Loki couldn’t move! He was so stuck in the tar pit that even his hands were trapped. Of course, I tried to help, but then I got stuck as well. It took half of the palace guards to get us both out in time for dinner. Father never suspected a thing!”

Charlotte laughed and pretended to have heard the whole story. “That sounds like a fun childhood. I think we should get back to our training, though. I’ll probably see you at dinner tonight, Thor.”

“Alas, the lady is right. Brother, I’ve left some books in your room I purchased on my travels. I hope you enjoy them.” Loki nodded once as his brother departed. The moment they were alone, Charlotte laughed out loud.

“My gosh, I have NEVER heard someone talk so much at once!” she giggled some more and took a sip from her water. “So… I know there’s more to fighting than just strength.” She tried to refocus her companion on the task at hand. She took her position again. “I guess I’ll have to practice kicks too.”

“That depends… that depends entirely on your style of fighting,” he replied, shaking a daze off. “We could have determined that already if that moron hadn’t interrupted,” he spat coldly. Charlotte cringed. She wanted to fire back, but she knew she was on thin ice with him already.

“What’s your style of fighting?” she asked.

“I prefer to see the light leave my enemy’s eyes,” he said mischievously. “Deception is my weapon of choice, alongside any small blade.”

“That sounds too complicated for me.”

“Given that you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, yes. It is.” He pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear and held up his hands in a calming gesture. “I’m going to attack you now, and you’re going to learn to escape from that position today.”

“Oka-” She started but was cut off as he suddenly had her throat locked in his arm from behind, and his other arm forcing her neck forward, cutting off airflow. She screeched and gasped for air, kicking her feet. She scratched at his arms, but to no avail. She felt the pressure building in her head as her body begged for oxygen. Her skin burned and she panicked. She fell to the floor when he finally released her.

“You have wings.”

She coughed and choked, thinking she must have misheard him. “W-what the HELL was that?” she exclaimed, holding her throat.

“Let me see them,” he pushed. “Do not deny it. I felt them. Is it a spell? Some Midgardian technology concealing them?”

“I don’t think I want you to, after that. You might try to put THEM in a choke hold!” she cried back, frustrated. That was insane!

“That was nothing, mortal. Show me.”

“No. We’re done for today.” Furious, she stomped to the locked and pulled out her hoodie. But a loud clicking noise from the elevator made her pause. “Did you just lock me in here?” she asked angrily.

“You will not leave until you’ve learned to escape that attack,” he said with a grin. “Or until you show me your wings.”

“You are infuriating!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want to do either, now—” he grabbed her and shoved her back on the mat, grabbed her from behind, and put her in the same position as before, but less pressure this time. “Let… me… go!” she begged, grabbing at his arms again.

“You are small, so you cannot rely on sheer strength to escape,” he said with some strain from holding her as she writhed. “But there are simple ways to hurt someone bigger than you.”

“Yeah, I could kick you right in the—”

“But you can’t, can you? Not in this position, Ms. Hamilton,” he taunted. “Peel my fingers back and tuck your chin beneath my arm.” Charlotte grunted and did as he said, with much difficulty as he increased the pressure. “Good. Now-” Charlotte snapped her head back into his face and twisted away from him, quickly bringing her fists up, just in case. He stumbled backward as blood began to fall from his nose. He shook his head and smirked, tilting it back. “You’re a quick learner, Iva.”

“I told you to call me Charlotte,” she snapped back. “I’m all about the kinesthetic instruction, but that was ridiculous.” She pushed stray hair back from her sweaty face and took a few deep breaths.

“You did well,,” he said, inspecting his blood in a way that sent chills down her spine. “I think we’re done for today.” He glanced down. “You ruined my favorite shirt,” he teased.

Gosh, he was frustrating. She wanted to hit him. He, on the other hand, was terribly intrigued. When she walked, he could see a slight glimmer in the air behind her, as though a blanket rippled. He'd convince her to show him eventually. 

“I’m sorry for hitting you so hard. Let me get you some ice. It doesn’t look broken,” she said softly, pushing her glasses up her nose. She really wasn’t that angry. It was probably the adrenaline. The pair got in the elevator in silence and rode to the top floor, where Charlotte found an entire set of ice packs in the freezer. She wrapped one in a thin rage and pressed it to his nose. He groaned and slapped her hands away. “Loki, this will take the swelling down. I might just need one for my throat,” she complained, rubbing it.

Loki rolled his eyes and held the ice pack on. “I barely squeezed.”

“Looks like you two are getting along,” Natasha said as she entered the kitchen. Charlotte noticed Loki stiffen. He suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. “Charlotte, did you hit him?” she asked with a grin.

“Um, it was an accident. He was teaching me how to get out of a headlock.”

“Oof, glad it wasn’t me teaching you. I have places to be tonight,” she laughed. Charlotte smiled distractedly as she watched Loki scoot off the stool he’d been sitting on and head back toward their rooms.

“Hey Nat, I’ll see you later, I need a shower,” she said and jogged off after he partner. “Loki!” she called right before he reached his door. He stopped and waited for her to speak. “Um, why’d you take off? I was gonna make us some breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said sharply and reached for his doorknob.

“Is it because of Nat?” she asked back.

He paused. Waited.

Then entered his room and slammed the door behind him.


	7. Gift

Charlotte sat curled up on the couch with Thor and Steve. She sipped hot cocoa and watched Steve teach Thor how to play Uno. It was pretty funny to watch.

“What are Loki’s hobbies?” she asked out of nowhere.

Thor glanced up from the game and gave her a curious look. “My brother prefers reading to anything else. I was never proficient with books and whatnot, but Loki excelled.” His grin was somewhat off, as if the memories were bittersweet. “It was always a… halcyon childhood. My friends mocked him for his interests, and I must admit, I stood by their side.”

“Because you guys were into fighting and stuff, right?” she asked, playing one of Thor’s cards for him.

Thor chuckled. “Ah, yes, 'fighting and stuff'. Our people was one of warriors. Loki was a warrior too," he added, "In his own way. He fought with his words more than his fists.”

“He seems to have a lot to say, but..."

He nodded. "He is less talkative these days. Ask, and I will strive to answer."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to invade his privacy or anything like that! I just thought it'd be nice to do something for him. Like a gesture, to show him I’m not his enemy.”

Here, Steve spoke up. “He sees us all as his enemy, probably because we all fought him personally. Maybe he’ll have a different take with you, since you weren’t there.”

Thor nodded. "Even I, for much longer than any of my shield brothers and sisters. I'm afraid the only suggestion I have for you is to gift him a book, but then again..." he coughed sheepishly. "I am not aware of what kind Loki enjoys."

She sighed and leaned back, thinking of what she could do. Well, it was only 8 o’clock. She still had time to go to the store. She excused herself from the living room and went straight to her bedroom and slipped on some shoes. On the way to the elevator, she dropped Nat a text asking if there was a car she could drive. Some SUV in the garage had the keys in the ignition already, apparently. That worked for her. 

Now, if only she could tell which of these _eighteen black SUVs_ was the correct one.

***

Loki folded his clothes and methodically placed them in their drawers, mulling over the day’s events. His partner was the most intriguing thing to happen in ages, but with that intrigue came a heavy dose of discomfort. For all intents and purposes, he would be at a disadvantage with every novel meeting, going in with only the vaguest of ideas while the opposite party could assemble an entire profile on him from the online world if they so wished. Her name, her wings… He didn’t know a thing, but she seemed to read him like a book. She knew when Thor was there that he was uncomfortable. She could see that Natasha bothered him.

Either he had been slipping for a while now and the band of misfits simply went along with it, or she was naturally intuitive, he mused with a scowl. Neither outcome laid in his favor.

A knock at his door triggered his reflex to summon a weapon, which he... had mixed feelings about. He set down the hoodie he’d been folding, dark and plain and still foreign, but he’d learned to do without his usual flare for the dramatic. He really didn’t want it much now, anyway. It reminded him far too much of the images he’d seen too many times on news channels, reports, and the internet.

He waited a while until he heard a second knock. With a sigh he approached the door and cracked it, prepared to scare off whoever was there.

The hallway was vacant, as was the partially-concealed vent above, and— well, not the floor, apparently. He reached down and picked up a box about the size of a briefcase, neatly wrapped in brown paper with gold ribbon tied in a bow. Attached to the ribbon was a white tag, reading _God of Mischief_ in lilting cursive, not too unlike his own.

Interesting. The people around here typically preferred “God of Lies”.

With a quick probe of his seidr, he determined that the sender had no ill intent and set it on the bed. Who had sent it was, he thought, blatantly obvious at this point. She was baiting him, trying to get in his head. So he shook himself off and continued to fold his laundry.

Barely seconds later he found himself staring at the box once. “No,” he muttered aloud. “I will not play her games.”

Again, he found himself studying the gift.

And again.

And again.

Finally, releasing a sigh of irritation, he set down the last article of clothing and tore into the package, tossing the paper into a barely used waste basket in the corner. He slipped the lid off the navy box and was surprised to see its contents. Inside lay a book entitled, “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” next to a box of hot cocoa packets and a sketchpad. He lifted the sketchpad and found a set of artists pencils beneath it. He wondered if her mysterious gifts included telepathy— or, more likely, how many of his secrets that blonde oaf had spilled this time.

A shame, really. To have two telepaths roaming this prison would have been interesting.

He turned the book over in his hands, the lack of a synopsis not dissuading in the slightest given the book's reputation. At any rate, it had been on his to-read list for a while. There was only one thing about this that Loki did not like. Because now, she’d done something for him, and now?

Now, he owed her.


	8. Boxing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh god this chapter is in such need of editing hhhhhhhn

Charlotte stretched out her muscles as she woke, already feeling the activity from the day before. It hadn’t been much, but she wasn’t a very active person. She preferred reading to running and exercising her mind over her body. But today, she decided to get up earlier and do an actual workout routine at the gym.

She was there by eight this time. She spent fifteen minutes on an elliptical, did twenty reps each of squats with weights, curls, and 3 types of crunches. It wasn’t much, but she was coated in sweat by the time her counterpart showed up for training.

“You’re early again,” he acknowledged.

“I figured I should probably start getting in shape if I’m gonna be learning to fight,” she replied after a long drink of water. “What are we doing today?”

Loki wrapped his hands as he spoke. “I want to see your form when you strike. Wrap your hands.” He held out wraps, which Charlotte took and stared at awkwardly. He sighed. This woman didn’t know the first thing about combat, training, or anything. Even he knew how the Midgardians did things. He flicked his fingers at her, annoyed. She held her hands up and he wrapped them roughly, not bothering with gentle nudges or grips. Clearly he just wanted to get this done. The moments ticked by in silence as she watched him. When he finished one hand, she used it to shove her glasses up her nose. She didn’t think he’d want to listen to her talk after the goodnight door-slam he gave her last night.

“You’re quiet this morning,” he muttered, finishing her right hand. She shrugged and followed him across the gym to a hanging punching bag. “Strike,” he ordered calmly. She did. “You favor your right arm, yes?”

“Yeah, I’m right-handed.”

“Then face your left shoulder to your opponent and strike again.” Charlotte did as he said. The punch was heavier and louder, swaying the bag. She smirked, knowing how much she was restraining her strength. She knew she needed to learn form and technique before strength. The only thing that truly countered it was him. Yesterday it took everything she had to get out of that hold. “Do not hold your fists so tight.”

He coached her along the way, circling her and making corrections for about an hour. She studied him from the corner of her eyes as he did. He didn’t seem to miss a thing, always noticing every move she made. She, on the other hand, noted how he kept shoving his hair back behind his ears as most of the front fell out of the failed bun on the back of his head. She noticed how he would check her feet every time she moved them to make sure they stayed in the right position.

He noticed how the ripple along her back shook when she struck the bag. He noticed how she pushed her glasses up every few swings. He longed to see the mystery she hid, but he knew he was on thin ice with her.

She longed to know the mystery of his mind, but she knew she was on thin ice with him.

“Your waist is twisted wrong,” he said, placing his hands on her hips. She froze and stared straight ahead. His hands were warm, almost hot. She felt his chest brushing against her back and his breath washing over her neck. He adjusted her angle slightly. “So, when do I get the privilege of admiring your wings, Charlotte?” he said smoothly. Flustered, Charlotte stuttered a bit.

“I-I, um, not, I wasn’t gonna… I don’t know yet,” she said, annoyed at her own reaction to him. His mouth curved into a smirk.

“I am just going to keep asking, darling. You may as well show me now.” His voice dripped like honey. Then Charlotte frowned. He was flirting with her just to see her wings. She straightened her back and dropped her hands, forcing his off her waist.

“You’re disgusting,” she snapped, turning to find her water.

He raised a brow. "It delivers results. Usually."

"Yes, well, don’t try to seduce the girl whose father—” she stopped short, instantly regretting her words.

“Whose father…” 

“None of your business,” she replied easily. She couldn’t let him get under her skin. She turned and studied his face. “Also,” she said. “Your eyes and nose are bruised.”

“And whose fault could that be?”

“I don’t know, usually that’s what happens when you attack someone.”

“I’ll be careful to put you down more quickly in the future,” he snapped back.

“You do that.” Charlotte stomped to the elevator and shut the door before Loki could even make it halfway there.

What a _jerk._


	9. Jekyll and Hyde

Charlotte enjoyed firearms training more than anything else. She turned out to be pretty good at it, too. She did well with close range and quick transitions. Within 5 days she was doing solo simulation drills, working her way through tunnels and defending herself against highly pressurized, extremely accurate paintball guns. Of course, Steve and Nat drilled her 6 hours a day on gun parts until she could take one apart and put it back together again, blindfolded. Seriously. They didn’t quit. They pushed her so hard she had a handgun mastered in 3 days, and a bigger one in 4. On the fifth day, she was completing drills by herself. The two weeks went by with minimal interaction between herself and her partner. He didn’t make an effort to contact her, and she stayed away from him. They passed each other in the hall and she always smiled. He always looked down his nose at her. Sometimes she thought he was staring, other times she thought she was crazy.

Sometimes she would find him working out and silently go about her own routine, slipping headphones on and ignoring him. Sometimes he found her exercising and did the same. Everyone noticed but no one said anything about it. She almost thought it was funny. They knew each other for 2 days and were already at odds.

But today was the day she had to deal with Loki. She was nervous, annoyed, and slightly scared. She’d never seen him actually fight before, much less fought beside him, especially given the past 2 weeks.

“Great job,” Steve said, clapping as she exited the simulation. She slipped her headset off and grinned. That was the second time she’d made it through without getting hit.

“Did you see target 14? I obliterated it!” she exclaimed. They rewatched the footage from the camera in her headset. The helmet had a black face shield that lit up her view of the tunnels but played simulations of enemies like a screen, only they looked real to whoever wore the helmet. The replay showed Charlotte shooting the target in the head and chest twice each. She cheered quietly as Steve laughed. Paintball guns were embedded in the walls, but you couldn’t see them. If you didn’t shoot the target in time, you’d get nailed.

“What’s so funny?” The familiar voice brought a frown immediately to Charlotte’s face. In walked Loki with a blank expression, pulling a black hoodie on over a bare chest.

“I, uh, made it through the simulation.”

His brow lifted. “Really.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did,” she shot back, but then paused. Not a great way to start off the whole ‘fighting together’ thing. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Truce?” she asked, sticking her hand out. He squinted suspiciously at her for a moment before slowly taking her hand.

“Truce.” He picked up his headset as Steve glanced awkwardly between the pair. Loki watched as Charlotte reloaded her weapon. Today she wore shorts. She had short legs that reminded him of a monkey. A black thing laced up her right ankle, confusing him. “What’s on your foot?” he asked. She turned and smiled. This time it was genuine. He’d honestly hated being out of her good graces, though he’d never admit it.

“It’s a brace. It supports my foot from and old injury,” she replied, placing her headset on.

“What happened?”

“I fell out of a tree,” she answered as though she’d rehearsed it a hundred times. Why was he so nosy today?

“You guys ready?” Steve called from the station. The pair nodded in sync as Loki grabbed his own weapon off the table and secured it to his belt. “Okay, so your goal is to make it through watching each other’s backs. It’s designed for you to fail, so be prepared to be overwhelmed.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at her as she took a deep breath, and then they began.

***

6 tries later, Charlotte held an ice pack to the side of her head as yellow paint dripped from her hair. Loki mopped paint off his hoodie, wincing as he put pressure on the welt. All in all, they didn’t do too poorly individually. But…

“Rogers… if you breathe a word of this, I’ll kill you,” Loki threatened. He reached back and tore his hoodie off, storming off toward the elevator. Charlotte groaned and followed after him. She needed a shower and some bandaids.

“Thanks, Steve,” she muttered behind her. He chuckled and waved her off, clearly pleased to see the pair struggle through the simulation. She squeezed into the elevator at the last minute, still holding the ice onto her head. “That was awful,” she moaned. Loki nodded back.

“I must confess, I did not expect working together to be so complex.”

“It’s my fault, honestly. I got nervous and went too fast.”

“No,” Loki argued, shaking his head. “I believe I am so accustomed to fighting alone that I pushed you out of my way.”

“Yeah, but I also kept rushing you and over-shooting.” Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut against the oncoming headache.

“Well, if you insist on taking the blame, I’ll allow it,” he said with a smirk. Charlotte chuckled. This was new, they were joking around now.

“That’s quite a welt,” she said. His stomach was all red and swollen on the side with a large round welt bruising.

“Oh, is that what you were looking at?” he replied slyly. Charlotte frowned as blood rushed to her cheeks.

“No, I mean, I…” The elevator doors slid open just in time. “I have to get a shower,” she muttered, hiding her face and heading to her room. She pushed through the door and shut it softly behind her. The smile drifted from her face. He seemed to have moments where he was almost normal, but then sometimes… he just seemed so angry. So… depressed. Charlotte shook her head. She felt sorry for him. To have endured mind control must have been excruciating.

She showered and let her damp hair hang down her back as she dressed and picked up a book from her shelf, glancing in a mirror on her way out to the living room. Her temple had a nasty scrape on it and a welt had bruised the back of her neck after their failed attempts at teamwork, but it made her laugh knowing that he’d done just as poorly as she had.

Steve and Clint were on the couch already, quietly discussing a sports game. They nodded to her when she sat down. Snuggled up with a warm blanket, she began to read. She’d only been on the couch for a few minutes when approaching footsteps drew her attention. She looked up to see Loki approach the couch. Clint and Steve went quiet, watching in awkward shock as the god of mischief sat softly down beside his partner, nodded to her, and opened a book of his own. With a cough, the two men went back to their conversation. The mismatched companions spent the next few hours in a comfortable silence.

Charlotte recognized Loki’s book as the one she bought him. “Are you enjoying Jekyll and Hyde?” she asked.

“Indeed. I find the complexity… a perceptive acknowledgement of nonphysical suffering,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Yes. A favorite part of mine was when Stevenson says “If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also.” It reminds me that wickedness dismantles the victimizer just as much as it does the victim.” Loki gazed at her for a moment with an expression she didn’t quite understand. She chuckled awkwardly. “What?” she asked. She thought she caught the ghost of a smile before he turned his head back to his book.

“What do you do?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Like, for a job? I’m a teacher. An English teacher.”

“So you instruct language and literature, then.”

“Yeah, basically. I teach high school,” she replied. Glancing at the clock, she sighed. “It’s getting late. I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

“I’ll accompany you,” Loki said, rising from the couch with her. She paused, not quite sure how to handle it.

“Oh, okay.” Ignoring the strange looks from the two others, she walked off down the hall beside her partner. What an odd moment. But perhaps this was a good time to get

to know him a bit better… Once they reached their doors, she paused and turned to him. “Loki?” she said.

“Yes, Charlotte?”

“I have a question. How… After the mind control, how long did it take you to recover?”

His eyes turned cold. Moments went by as he glared at her. His breathing grew heavy and his jaw worked. Charlotte instantly regretted her question.

“I-I’m sorry, I…”

“Whatever they told you, Whatever you think you know, you don’t. I told you before, I don’t need your pity.” He turned to his door but paused, speaking over his shoulder. “Stevenson was right, Iva Hamilton. If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also.”


	10. Fly

Charlotte knocked on Loki’s door first thing the next morning. She was up earlier than usual, but she was on a mission. Tired of playing emotional games, she was determined to work with him despite their differences or disagreements.

“Loki,” she called, banging on the door again. After a moment, the door cracked open, revealing a sleepy Loki wearing nothing but a pair of fitted sweatpants. Her eyes caught on his thickly muscled torso for a moment and she swallowed. She’d expected him to be up and dressed, not… looking like a men’s underwear model.

“Is there something I can do for you, or did you wake me just to stare?” he asked with a slight edge. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She pushed her glasses up her nose and cleared her throat.

“Um, I, I looked you up and talked to Thor the other day. He said you fight with knives. I want you to teach me how,” she said. His eyebrows shot up.

“It was my understanding that bladework is too outdated and close range for your people,” he replied.

“I think I like close range. And I won’t always have a gun. Will you teach me? Please?”

Loki sighed and rubbed his forehead, pushing his hair back. “Very well. But not today. My instinct tells me that your head took a little too much of a beating yesterday. You need to rest.”

Charlotte frowned. “No, I’m fine, really. I-”

“You’re not fine. You’re in pain and concussed.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

Loki sighed again, like a mother to a child. “I have many gifts you have yet to learn of.” Charlotte furrowed her brow, puzzled. “And I heard you ask Natasha for Tylenol late last night.”

“Okay, fine,” she grumbled. “But is there anything we CAN do today? I’m restless.”

“Show me your wings,” he said without missing a beat. Charlotte paused. She had to do it eventually… But she felt so privately about them. Only a few people had ever seen them. She would feel as though she was standing in front of him in her underwear… “If you do, I’ll show you how to speak to me without words,” Loki bargained.

“You can do that?” she asked.

“I can teach you to.”

Charlotte pursed her lips and sighed. “Fine. Get dressed and meet me in the gym.”

Ten minutes later, Loki stepped off the elevator and found his partner sitting on a bench on her phone, wearing a pair of leggings and a sports bra. He thought about scaring her, but decided against that, given that she was about to allow him to step into a very private part of her life. When she heard him, she stood awkwardly and wiped her palms on her thighs as though she’d been sweating.

“Hey,” she greeted. Loki nodded. “So… um… I need help, to, uh, to show you,” she muttered hesitantly. “There’s… when I was young, people needed to make sure no one could see my wings. And after… an incident, they didn’t really want me using them, either.” Loki frowned. He didn’t like where this was going. “I don’t think Natasha knew about this when she came to me, but… Well, here.” She turned her back to him and reached behind her. “Right there, between my shoulders. There’s a small device, about the size of a dime.”

“I see it,” Loki said with disdain. “It hides and controls them, yes?”

“Yeah. So I need you to… press your finger to it and turn it 90 degrees. I can’t do it. It has to be opened by someone other than me.”

“That is barbaric.” He did as she said. He could sense that she agreed, but she didn’t speak. As soon as he turned the device, it flickered and dropped off to the ground. Behind her, a pair of gray, blue, and white wings appeared like a static television set, slowly clearing up. Loki took a step back. They were huge. They grew above her head and down past her feet, the longest of the feathers dragging on the ground behind her. They were strong, thick, and powerful. He had rarely seen such beings in the universe. “They’re glorious,” he muttered.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. They’re bigger than they were before.” She tried her best to be non-emotional about it, but really she wanted to cry.

“You let them do this to you?” he asked incredulously. She nodded and dropped her gaze.

“I… thought it would make me normal, in high school.”

Loki paused. “Exactly how long have they been concealed?”

“About 12 years. But there were short breaks in between, when they would have me stay in labs so they could test my blood and have me fly around for them.”

“ _Mortals,_ ” he spat.

“I don’t know. I figured it was easier for everyone if I just let them do it,” she replied with a sad shrug.

“Well,” Loki said. “You’re going to have to learn to use them. Stretch them out.” Obeying his order, she slowly stretched to her full wingspan and shook them out. A few feathers floated out of them and she groaned in relief at the feeling of the muscles pulling and stretching. She heard Loki mutter under his breath about the size. Her wingspan was about 12 feet from the tip of one wing to the other. “What are you waiting for, darling?” he asked. Charlotte frowned at him, confused. He smirked and sighed. “Fly.”

“I can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t in so long. I probably couldn’t even lift off the ground.”

“Try, at least,” he encouraged.

“No, Loki. I’m telling you I can’t. I can’t do it,” she argued, turning away. She blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes. “Please don’t push me,” she said softly. “I… I have to go.”

“And do what?” Loki asked, grabbing her wrist. “You’re stuck here, same as me.”

“I don’t know, maybe, maybe I’m tired of the questions, Loki. I answer questions for you and try with you and you give me nothing in return,” Charlotte snapped. Loki paused and dropped her arm. Silence ticked by with him staring at her, as though weighing how much her friendship was worth.

“I was raised in the household of Odin. Several years ago, he revealed to me that I was not his child; rather, the offspring of a frost giant left behind in the wake of blood, taken by Odin to be used as a chess player on a board of politics.” He watched her closely, studying her reaction. She sighed.

“ I’m sorry,” she offered, taking his hand. He did not answer. He breathed slowly, carefully watching her hand holding his. She felt a barred rage in his veins as his jaw worked. She tried again. “Edgar Allan Poe said, ‘the scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls.’ I won’t make you dig them up when… when I can see you’ve fought so hard to bury them.” Charlotte released his hand and grabbed her things. She could feel his eyes on her back as she retreated toward the elevator, guilt pulling her shoulders down.

“I believe we had a deal,” he called out suddenly. Charlotte stopped in her tracks.

“What?” she asked, turning to face him. He sighed and smirked. With a mischievous glimmer in his eye, he motioned for me to come sit.

“I’m going to teach you to communicate with your mind… then you’ll never be able to get me out of your head.”


	11. Practice Makes Perfect

“Oh, come now. That was amateur,” Loki chided.

Charlotte groaned in pain as she landed hard on her stomach and bumped her chin on the mat. Loki laughed and twirled his knife between his fingers, circling her.

“Not gonna bother to help me up?” Charlotte snapped, climbing to her feet.

Loki scoffed. “Will you expect your enemy to offer a hand of friendship when you’re trying to kill him?” Charlotte rolled her eyes, knowing he was right. She rubbed her chin. She’d be covered in bruises after this. She was trying to master a series of punches, kicks, and blocks, but he was so much stronger than her. “I’ve told you once, and I suppose I have to tell you again: you are small, so you must use speed and precise hits rather than relying on strength and impact.”

“I’m trying, but you’re faster than me,” she complained. “I can’t even get a punch in.”

“Then move faster. Your wings would help, you know.”

Charlotte paused and pushed her glasses up her nose. “I guess I just feel like I’ve learned to function fine without them, and I’m afraid I’ll have to relearn everything if I try to use them.” She sighed and her wings and shoulders sagged. She studied herself in the gym mirrors. Sure, they were beautiful, but she didn’t really know how to use them anymore.

“Practice makes perfect, darling,” Loki countered.

Before Charlotte could think, he brought his knife up toward her throat. She jerked back and blocked his forearm with her own and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and curling toward him to wrench the blade away. But he was ready and wrapped his other arm around her. Fed up with trying to use his methods, she stomped his foot, extended her wings to force his arms off, then screamed in his face. He lost his grip on the knife and the victim, flinching backward. Charlotte whirled around and stretched her wings to their full length, holding the knife against Loki’s throat. She pushed him back against the wall with her free arm across his chest until his back slammed against it. The silence was broken only by her panting.

Loki began to chuckle, and she had a feeling that he would have offered a slow clap barring the circumstances. “Well done, Iva. You managed to surprise me.”

She dropped her arms and retracted her wings, standing back and resting her hands on her knees. “Did I hurt you?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Are you going to ask the person trying to kill you that question as well?” he retorted.

“You’re not actually trying to kill me, Loki.”

“I could be.”

“With what, your geometric cheekbones and goth vibes?” Charlotte laughed at her own joke and flopped into a sitting position on the floor.

Loki closed his eyes and sighed as though dealing with a child. “You need to practice your mental exercises,” he said, taking a seat across from her.

“My head was throbbing yesterday after all those drills you made me do.” She’d spent the day before practicing projecting images into his mind. It was just as taxing as the physical training and honestly even more complex, like trying to figure out a complicated series of dance moves without a mirror or clear instruction. Just feeling.

“The more you practice, the less painful it will be. Take a breath. I want to see someone that is important to you.”

“Why do you always ask for personal images?” she asked, purely out of curiosity.

“Personal, private images are clearer and therefore simpler to project. In time, you will learn to project actual beings that others can see as well, and those will be even more personal.”

“Great,” she muttered. She sighed and conjured an image of her mother. They looked very similar with the same face, the same smile, and the same soft brown hair, but her mother’s eyes were green. Not quite like Loki's— of of a peridot to his emerald, maybe. Charlotte must have inherited her blue ones from her father. She inhaled slowly, tightened her chest, and pushed the image toward her partner. A sharp pain seemed to drill through her forehead, but immediately after, she heard Loki inhale sharply.

“Don’t push so hard,” he said sharply. “You’re going to bruise the both of us.”

“Sorry.”

“Do not waste time being sorry when your image is incomplete."

Incomplete? She sent a probing question to his mind, taking care to use less force this time. She got an image of her own wings in return. ' _No, I got them from dad. Mom was human.'_

' _Your father was not?'_ he asked, the words coming through so much clearer than her own. He felt her hesitate, but he knew the answer. “ _There are very few winged races in the nine realms.”_

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said aloud, opening her eyes.

 _A pity_.

“And I heard that,” she muttered.

He opened his eyes and smirked. “Then I suppose you're improving after all.”

“Have you ever read Coriolanus?” she asked dully. No response. “Shakespeare. 'More of your conversation would infect my brain,'” she quoted, getting up and collecting her things.

Loki laughed outright, startling her. “I daresay you’re learning more from me than sport and telepathy,” he joked.

“I’m hungry. Do you want something to eat? I’ll make pancakes,” she offered, ignoring his comment.

“I’m willing to experiment.” The pair made their way to the kitchen and set their things down on the counter. Loki scooted into a stool at the island and Charlotte began their breakfast-for-lunch. All the while, they bickered back and forth, both mentally and verbally. In the adjacent living room, the six "originals" watched the two unlikely companions incredulously.

No one would have guessed they’d ever get along, but ever since Loki was broken under the mind control, they really didn’t know what to expect. Thor theorized that Loki found a connection in her through their mental capabilities. Tony figured he was just flirting. Natasha stayed neutral. The others tossed around different ideas, but the topic died out when Loki threw them a scathing look. Right, enhanced alien-senses and all that. 

None of them really knew what to think, and sometimes, neither did Charlotte. As she headed to bed that night, she stopped in the kitchen to finish the dishes. She wiped down the counters and put away the leftovers and when she finished, she took a deep breath and observed her work. Loki and the others had gone to bed hours ago, but she’d stayed to read. Now, the home was silent.

“I won’t have him locked away again.”

The deep voice drew her attention, gradually growing louder. It was just near enough for her to hear. She tiptoed over to the staircase past the living room and listened.

“We cannot imprison him for something that is not his fault.” That was Thor, she was sure.

“We also can’t have him escaping and wreaking havoc on the world.” Steve.

“It will pass. It should only last a day or so. Maybe two. Last time was my fault.”

“Thor…” Steve sighed. “Fine, but please try to make sure Charlotte doesn’t get hurt. We’ll explain it to her as soon as we can, but until then—"

"Keep her safe,” the Asgardian finished.

Charlotte slipped away before they might notice, questions swirling in her mind. What wouldn't they tell her? Was it about Loki? It could also be Dr. Banner, she knew, but why would they link Charlotte to him when she'd only talked to him a handful of times? And imprisonment?

She fell onto her bed with a teary sigh, resigned to a long night. "Making friends is hard," she whispered into her pillow.

"Will they ever trust me, Mom?"


	12. Anticipation

“Tony, lay off. She’s spent her life in and out of labs getting poked and prodded.”

“I just need measurements!” Tony responded, gesturing to Charlotte with a shiny black pen. “You’re doin’ great, kid.” He smiled at her and tapped a few buttons on a tablet.

“So I get my own Iron Man suit, right?” she teased, shaking out her wings.

“Ha! Only one king get's to wear the crown," he chuckled. “Alright, c’mon. Talk wingspan to me.”

Charlotte stretched, fanning her wings out to their full length. Bruce ducked to avoid them. “Sorry.” She gave them a gentle flex and rested them at a comfortable extension. She’d hated when the scientists would do this when she was little, but now… “You know, when I was a kid, they would typically take about 40% of my blood volume to analyze, every time I had check-ups.”

Bruce cringed. “Your primary care physician?” he asked. “I know I'm not that kind of doctor, but that’s not normal.”

“I don't know if I ever had one of those. I only saw a special team of doctors for medical things, even with my wings hidden. I mean, the moment I step on a scale, they’re going to wonder why a five-foot-two girl who wears a size four weighs a hundred fifty pounds.”

“Your wings mimic an albatross,” Tony noted, looking at the x-rays they’d taken that day.

“What do you mean?”

“The elbow of the wing can buckle and lock. That means, given the right environment, she could cruise at a fairly high altitude for a good amount of time. When was the last time you flew?”

“Oh, it’s been a while. Honestly, I haven’t flown in a year or two.”

“Nat said nobody had come to talk to you about it in twelve years,” Bruce tucked a pen behind his ear and leaned against the counter, folding his arms.

“Nobody had come to the house,” Charlotte explained. “I’d been to the labs, but not really to fly lately. Just for them to make sure I was under control.”

“I'm sorry," he said softly, and Charlotte wondered at how his alter ego could be so destructive when the man before her was so... not.

“I guess. It’s normal to me, at this point.”

***

Tony shooed Charlotte out of the labs an hour later. He needed space to work as he formulated some kind of armor or weaponry to fit around her wings. She had to admit she was a little excited. She’d never had someone work with them before; only try to hide them.

Back in her room, she took off her t-shirt and bra but paused in front of the mirror. Her wings connected to her back in smooth muscle and bone, close to but independent of her shoulder blades. She stretched them out and flapped them a couple of times. She wished, at times, that she had a smooth, beautiful back, like everyone else. Even Thor and Loki, who were literal aliens, had normal backsides She wished she didn’t have weird mental abilities.

She wished she was more like her mom.

With a sigh, she stripped the rest of her clothing away and turned on a steaming shower. What her new friends didn’t see was that hiding her wings meant she couldn’t care for them. This was the first time she’d be able to wash them in months. She soaked a soft, extra gentle loofa in baby shampoo and set about her task, going layer by layer and scrubbing away the old feathers, dead skin, and grime. It made her cringe to know Loki had seen them this dirty. After an hour, she finally turned off the tap and shook off the excess water. She smiled at the colors in the mirror. They had gone from grayish-navy to baby blue, cream to white, and muddy brown to gray.

She threw on some leggings and a t-shirt and decided to head to the kitchen for some afternoon coffee and was headed out the door when she heard a familiar voice coming from her neighbor’s room. Frowning, she pressed her ear to his door and cringed. Loki was listening to one of her lectures. She knocked on the door and the voice stopped.

The door swung open on its hinges, though Loki remained across the room. “May I help you?” he asked with a bite of sarcasm.

“I heard my voice,” she replied with an embarrassed smile. She scooted into his room for the first time. “Whatcha doin?”

Loki smirked and moved his hair aside so Charlotte could see his computer screen. Oh no. It was even worse. He was watching her defend her dissertation.

“You’re incredibly well educated for your age, no? I suppose I should call you Dr. Hamilton alongside Banner, now.” he asked, gesturing to the laptop.

“I mean… I guess. I worked hard and succeeded, I don't think it's necessary to call me Doctor or anything.”

“Oh, it isn’t. At all. But I appreciate a person who values the arts,” he mused, glancing at a collection of books on his wall.

“Ah, so you appreciate me,” she teased, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He raised an eyebrow.

“Occasionally.” The pair chuckled quietly before silence rose again.

Charlotte studied his room. It was very similar to hers, though his walls were dark gray. The room felt condensed. His bed was larger than hers and round with a black comforter. A gold wristwatch sat on his bedside table along with a few spare bills and a notebook.

She contemplated her next statement and decided to go out on a limb. “Thor said you were proficient in the arts growing up,” she said quietly. He flicked his gaze to her and watched her without expression for a moment. His chest rose and fell as he breathed very deeply before replying.

“I preferred intellect to athleticism,” he said smoothly. “What else did the overgrown child say?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I should-”

“Come now, surely I deserve to hear what secrets he has spilled? He never was able to keep his mouth shut for long, especially when a maiden comes asking.”

Charlotte chewed her lip at the subtle accusation. “Thor said he and some other people bullied you for it.”

“They tried,” he affirmed, staring out the window. “But that was a very long time ago, and I do not run from my past, unlike you.”

Charlotte paused. “Me?”

“Your name. They call you "Charlotte" now, but do you know what "Iva" means?” The way he looked at her was like he could see straight through her eyes into her soul. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I know what it means.”

“Then—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Charlotte snapped, scooting off his bed. She headed for the door. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

Loki sat there, more determined than ever to unlock the vault she hid her life in. He knew there was something there to be gained. Something to know. And he just did not like not knowing.

***

He sat up in bed that night, keeping a firm grip on his knife. His muscles strained and his hands shook. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated his face, casting an eerie shadow on the wall.

Loki dreaded the coming day.


	13. PTSD

"It's coming, Thor."

"You can fight it, brother. You can defeat it."

"Just give me something to put me to sleep."

"Loki, please. You can do this. Just... stay in your chambers all day. When is it coming?"

"Tomorrow. Even now... I feel his rage."

***

Charlotte hadn’t seen her partner all day. Not at breakfast, not in the gym, not the balconies or any of his usual nooks and crannies. He didn’t answer his door when she tried, and Thor was nowhere to be found either. 

Strange.

On the bright side, she had the workout room all to herself, so she let her wings out. Her unassisted pull-up count was steadily increasing, but it couldn't compare to the boost that her wings gave. She breezed through a few stretches and motor work, extending them one at a time at different angles, before admitting to herself that she didn't really know what else to do with them. She could probably ask one of the others for their ideas, but... well. All things came in due time.

Speaking of the others, everyone else also seemed to be rather on edge. JARVIS had reported the number of people in the building maybe a dozen times since she woke up, something he'd never done before. When she asked the AI, he'd said it was on Tony's orders. Thinking about it, said number seemed a bit low. Maybe she'd forgotten a holiday.

...The others would tell her if something was going on, wouldn't they?

Charlotte spent a lot of time in her room, cleaning, doing laundry, and listening to music. When the lack of people finally got to her, she found Steve for some firearms training, and then opted for a late dinner. 

The kitchen light was on.

“Oh, there you are! Where have you been all day?” she asked as she spotted Loki making a sandwich. He tensed as she approached, quickly dropping the knife in his hand. “Woah, hey, chill,” she joked, but he grabbed his food and pushed past, knocking into her on the way. Hard. She fell, her head glancing off the countertop. “Ow! Loki, what the hell?"

She expected a muttered apology. A sigh. Maybe a condescending glare, at worst.

She did _not_ expect Tony to walk out of the elevator, grab Loki's arm, and subsequently, get punched. 

Charlotte cried out as Tony landed on her.

“What—?” she started, but Tony was already up, some kind of device in hand and ready to retaliate. He jumped up and connected with Loki’s block, caught a kick, and then landed an uppercut that sent the taller of the two backwards. 

“Stop it!” she yelled as Loki picked himself up, missing Tony's panicked look, missing his outstretched hands, focused on the way her partner's breathing slowed and... his...

...Blue eyes?

They were only on her for a second, just a second to hope that he would listen, a second to wonder at the color, before—

“C’mon Morticia Adams, is that all you’ve got?” 

Loki picked himself up with an honest-to-god _snarl_ and launched himself at Tony, a blade materializing in each hand. The latter put out his hand and blasted him in the chest into the wall, followed by a quick duck from a series of thrown daggers. The two went back and forth, blue-white versus green light flashing and the sound of metal clashing, and then Tony was calling for backup and Charlotte had to do something—

So she did.

“Stop!” She cried, jumping between the pair, hands out. “Stop fighti—”

He hit her.

He hit her straight across the face, growling and grabbing her throat. He twisted her around and put her straight into a headlock, her neck nestled deep into his elbow. She screamed, feeling the pressure in her head grow but this was familiar, it was just like practice and he showed her and she

peeled his fingers back as hard as she could even though one made a snapping noise

and she threw the back of her head into his nose and stomped his foot

and she managed to escape his grip but his _eyes_

and then there were hands around her throat and they _squeezed_

her feet were in the air she was in the air this

was not like

pr a c t i c e.

She gasped and scratched bloody lines into his hands, kicking all the while. Tony was pulling at Loki and someone else had joined in, but Charlotte couldn’t tell who. 

The only thing she could see

was

_Blue._

***

Charlotte woke with a start, grasping at the thin, high-tech neck brace. Someone grabbed her hands and pinned them down. Small hands.

"Nat?" she tried to say, but all that came of it was a pitiful strangled noise and pain.

“I wouldn't talk just yet. Everything's fine, it’s just a brace. You're in my room, and it's around ten in the morning,” Natasha said softly. Charlotte blinked, then looked past the redhead to confirm that no, this definitely wasn't her room. She could appreciate the curtains being drawn, though. “You’ve been out for about twelve hours.” Nat handed Charlotte a pad and pen. “Don’t try to talk just yet. Maybe give it another day or so. He… he messed you up pretty bad,” she said with a humorless chuckle.

Charlotte frowned. "It... it wasn’t funny." She remembered his eyes and the inhuman rage they held as he pinned her to the wall. She remembered his grip and how he didn’t even hesitate to try to kill her. That _couldn’t_ have been him.

A knock on the door drew their attention. Thor peeked his head in and offered a small smile upon seeing her awake, but not quite meeting her eyes. “How fares the patient?”

“Better. Thor, maybe you should explain it to her.”

“Me? Ah,” he blew out a sigh and leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. “You must understand that Loki has been through many things. Painful, traumatic things.” He paused, pushing a string of hair behind his ear. “Loki disappeared for roughly a year. After a… quarrel between the two of us, I presumed him dead. In reality, as I soon learned, he had been taken captive by the Mad Titan, Thanos. I... know not what occurred then,” Thor admitted, "but the next I saw my brother, his mind was no longer his own."

Charlotte opened her mouth to ask a question, only to cough and wince as pain shot through her aching neck.

“She's probably more concerned with why he assaulted her,” Natasha said, guiding Thor’s narrative.

Thor nodded. “Well. This... episode. Last year was the first time I saw this from him. I was caught off guard, and the servants of the theatre nearly paid for it with their lives. This year..."

"We didn’t know what to do or how to handle it," Nat interrupted. "We should have taken precautions, but we didn’t.” _He was just taking too long,_ she thought. Oddly enough, Charlotte could feel that thought pass from Natasha’s mind like watching a train pull out of its station. “Loki has trouble controlling his own mind around the same time every year since his mind was taken over. It’s like a weird, alien PTSD.”

Charlotte frowned and began to write on the notepad, then paused. Glancing up at Natasha, she pushed a thought her way, hoping it would work. After several seconds of both Avengers staring at her in confusion, she gave up. Loki must be easier to communicate with because he was doing it too, like meeting in the middle? She sighed and decided to write on the pad. “ **So it wasn’t really him. Is he okay?** ”

“Yes,” said Thor. “He has barricaded himself within his chambers. It is beginning to pass, but it may be another week before he is able to join us once more.”

Charlotte had meant mentally as well, but the non-answer was enough for her to tell. She hoped her partner wouldn’t avoid her afterwards, but at the moment, she had to focus on her own recovery. Every movement of her head hurt. Her throat felt swollen shut. She didn’t like the neck brace, but she was sure the muscles in her neck were very badly damaged.

“Once the swelling goes down you’ll feel a lot better, maybe in a day or so,” Nat told her. Charlotte tried nodding, but that hurt, so she just smiled.

Better a day than a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editor's Note:
> 
> Hello, dear audience, please note that this chapter has been edited to hell and back with a 1.3% increase in word-count. This is completely my fault, because neither of us know how to write a good fight scene but I sure did try. Also, you will never have to read Thor speak like a common pleb due to our darling author writing this at an ungodly hour in the morning, which is really your loss because when I tell you I had a good laugh— man. Three cheers for our hardworking Em!
> 
> -V


	14. Miserable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Who are you when no one's watching?_

Swing. Contact. Disengage. “Why won’t you see her?”

Twist. Lunge. Block. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Dodge. Swipe. Duck. “I wasn’t there.”

Neck. Contact— blocked. “You knew it would come.”

Thor parried each of Loki’s strikes and fought back with some of his own. Loki sliced his blade at Thor’s chest, but Thor jumped out of the way before delivering a particularly heavy blow with his boot.

“I did not want to chain you up like an animal,” Thor growled.

Loki climbed to his feet, tossing his hair out of his face and shaking out the arms that had taken the burnt of the kick. “You’ve already done that,” he snapped back, and then they were at it again. Loki duplicated himself, but as usual, none of his illusions could withstand Thor.

“You’ve never been so concerned about another’s life before,” the elder pointed out.

Loki snarled. “She,” he grunted with another block, then swung up viciously “— had not fought me. She had the mercy of a pane of glass between the two of us, and now that is _shattered_. Are you satisfied, with how we roll in the shards?”

“I wanted you to be free,” Thor ground out, barely holding Loki’s blade back from his throat.

Loki leaned in close. “I’d rather have been chained like an animal,” he breathed. He shoved Thor down and stormed across the gym to his water, ignoring the stares of the other Avengers. They’d only come to work out and hadn’t expected a war on the mats.

“Go to her,” Thor pleaded again.

“She will come to me, or else I will know that her 'forgiveness' was not freely given. I will not manipulate her into false acceptance, as you have manipulated the rest of this _team_.”

“Manipulated?" Clint asked warily. "Thor, what is he talking about?” 

Loki narrowed his eyes and gestured at the archer. “You see? You bade me to reside here, be ‘one of us.’ Well, I’m not, am I, Thor? I’m not one of you. Your friends have forgiven me because you asked them to and nothing more." 

"Loki," Steve tried, but faltered at his glare.

"There is no need to continue this farce, Captain. Stop pretending and let. Me. Be. Miserable.”

***

A day later, Tony came to see her.

He was probably sore and patched up as well, but he sat on the bed with her and taught her to play poker. "I'm avoiding Bruce in the lab," he said easily when she asked. _You shouldn't be alone right now._

At any rate, she was grateful for the company. He stayed for a couple of hours and brought her a book and dinner, then left to attend some party with his girlfriend.

Charlotte sat alone for a while, a plan swirling in her mind. She waited until she knew Nat and Clint and Steve had gone to bed, then slipped out from under the covers and stood in front of the mirror, unbuckling the Velcro on her neck brace.

Her neck was ringed with purple bruises and still a tiny bit swollen. She ran a finger down the marks, connecting them like constellations. Not so bad that she needed the brace on anymore, as she'd hoped. Or at least, not for a quick venture down the hall.

She quietly snuck out of her room, took a deep breath, and knocked softly on her partner’s door. A mumbled ‘leave’ came from the other side, but she just knocked again and opened the door a crack.

Mistake.

A glass cup came hurtling toward her head, prompting her to shut the door back. A tinkling indicated that it had shattered, and after counting to ten, she tried again.

Loki was upright beside his desk, eyes trained on her the moment the barrier between them was gone. The pair studied each other carefully for a moment, he the damage to her face and neck, she his eyes.

_Green._

“My... apologies.," he said after a moment, before dropping back down into his seat. "I thought you were Thor.”

“I didn’t think I was that tall,” she teased, pushing her glasses up her nose. Her voice grated and scratched, making her wince. 

“You should be resting.”

“So should you.”

“I am not injured.”

"Your finger's broken," she shot back.

"I heal quickly."

Charlotte sighed and hesitantly padded across the floor, slowly and painfully lowering herself down beside him. “But does your mind heal as fast as your body?” she scraped out. She reached for his hand, but he jerked it away, the sudden motion starling the both of them.

 _Green,_ she reminded herself, before slowly reaching for his hand again.

A tremor ran through his body, slight enough to go unnoticed if she wasn't looking for it. But he wasn’t controlling his emotions very well, and she could feel every bit of them pressing on her chest like a weight. 

_Wait._ If she could feel his distress, she could make him feel her calm. With a deep, quiet breath she pushed her sense of centeredness and peace toward him. She might have pushed a bit too hard because she heard him let out a sharp intake of air

“Stop it,” he said softly.

“You haven’t slept in two days,” she replied. Her neck was aching from holding up her head, so she laid it against his shoulder. She felt him stiffen, but she didn’t move. 

They sat in silence for a while. At some point he laid his head down on top of hers.

' _Why aren’t you afraid of me?'_

Charlotte wasn’t sure if he said it or thought it, but she knew she heard it. She slowly lifted her eyes. His skin felt warm and smooth over her cold fingers.

“Because you didn’t hurt me,” she answered. He lifted his head and leaned it back against the wall. "You never have."

It was dark outside, but the moon cut a clear path of light onto the floor beside them. 

“Forgive me,” he whispered after a moment.

“Always,” she replied.

***

Steve cracked open the door to Loki’s room. On one hand, he doubted that Charlotte was there. On the other, Natasha's instincts were rarely wrong.

Clint had been alarmed to find her missing, but Loki and Charlotte were leaned against each other, sound asleep with their backs to the wall.

“Why would she go to him?” Clint asked, bewildered.

Natasha sighed. “Same reason I went to Bruce when he had nearly killed me. It wasn’t really him.”

Steve nodded. "It never was."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editor's Note:
> 
> Did it feel clunky? Awkward? Discombobulated? Surprise, that's how the team was feeling for most of the chapter! Look how well we can make the audience connect to the story! 
> 
> Also the shipping simps get non-violent hand-holding. We fed you. You're welcome. Feel free to starve for another few chapters, ehehehehehe.
> 
> -V


	15. Bad Dreams

Charlotte woke in a bed that was distinctly not her own.

It was softer, for one. The sheets felt like they probably had a ridiculous thread count, and the covers were puffy, but not smothering. Obviously, her priorities were in order, because the first coherent thought she had was _I need to buy this bed set._

The second was, distinctly, _ow._ Her neck ached.

It was a fight to open her eyes, between how heavy they were and the comfort of the bed, but something was bothering her. A heavy— no, an oppressive feeling, dark and familiar. If she had to describe it, she might compare it to sinking in thick mud, the kind that gets everywhere like a stain. Or even just the feeling of needing to shake your leg, to get up and pace, but being unable to do so.

In other words, a nightmare. But if she was awake, then... 

"Loki?"

She couldn’t spot him at first, not until she caught some movement out of the corner of her eye below her. On the floor in a pile of blankets, fast asleep, lay the source of the unsettling feeling. Still half-asleep, she tried to push a sense of calm into him again.

Still half-asleep, she forgot that the connection went both ways.

It was the kind of dread, of fear, that brings tears to your eyes and steals your breath away. Like not even trying to move in the cold, skin cracked and bleeding, because you _can't_.

_Why try when you know you will never succeed?_

Gasping, she pushed back, fighting for choked breaths of air and trying to thin the connection. It was an onslaught of anger, of panic, of sheer, mad, desperation, the tension of muscles trying to hold a position for hours on end. It was a swirling mass of _go away_ and _know your place_ and this sense of _wrongness_ that she grappled with for what must have been an eternity, because at the end of it all she was sweating and panting and staring at this being on the floor, who gave no signs of a disturbed sleep whatsoever except for the slight furrowing of the brow.

It was a reminder of how not human he was, how different he and Thor must be from the rest of the team, because no human could live through hundreds of years and come out the other side as sane as this. It was just a glimpse into the chaos of his mind, and Charlotte realized that he thrived on and suffered from it in equal measure.

But it wasn't a good way to sleep.

_A warm spring day_

_A seat of grass under a library's open window_

_A spread of books, waiting for a pale hand to come and turn their pages._

She projected that and more, reaching for peace, for quiet, for rest, cutting a cautious path through the tempest of his thoughts. Only when the winds settled did she let out a breath and close her own eyes once more, drifting into a place with libraries, books, and a raven-haired man reading them under the sun.

...

...

~~Her head hurt.~~

***

“Wake up, darling.”

She wasn’t sure if she dreamed it or not, but it certainly woke her up. She pushed herself to a sitting position, muscles whining in protest. Loki was in the bathroom doorway, messing with his damp hair. It felt strange to see him with a brush in hand instead of a knife, tossing a towel in the laundry bin instead of, well, her. Across the gym. Painfully. 

That probably needed to change.

“Good morning,” he greeted, studying her reaction.

She felt her face grow red, having been caught staring. “Good—” she began, wincing as her voice cracked, “Good morning.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and began folding some clothes that were laid over the back of his desk chair. “You slept well?” 

Charlotte nodded, pulling up the sheets to hide from the morning light. “Oh, this smells like you,” she said, and immediately turned even more red. She would have crawled back under the covers if it weren't rude and she was in her _own bed_.

“An odd thing to say. Of course it smells like me.” Some rustling, and then a light weight was added to the foot of the bed. Charlotte lifted her face for a peek and saw the blanket that had spent a night of the floor with him, neatly folded. Loki paused in his routine, shooting her a look. “Out of curiosity, what do I smell like?”

Somewhat mortified that she'd made him sleep on the floor, she fumbled with her answer. “You, um? Like, you smell like… peppermint. Like really, really strong peppermint. And something else, I, uh. Don't know?”

Loki let out a longsuffering sigh. “Stark placed this peppermint 'deodorant' among my toiletries in jest. The name," he sneered, "is 'icy aroma'." 

Icy... oh. Ohhh. "Because you don't talk to them much, so he thinks you're cold, so," she stifled a laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

She watched him fold his clothes, clean off the desk, and begin to pick up the shards of glass by the door. “Don’t cut yourself,” she called, straining to see his hands.

“How you mother me.”

“Someone has to,” she shrugged. Loki smirked and dumped the glass shards into the waste basket. Charlotte leaned her head back against the headboard, then decided it wasn’t quite time to get up. If she was going to do this, might as well ride it out.

“I assume you don’t plan to leave anytime soon,” he commented.

She frowned. “Sorry. I can leave if you’d like me to.”

He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “I suppose I shall endure your company,” he replied. “But if I allow you to remain in my bed, little bird, then I entreat you to eat breakfast with me.” 

“Okay. I can make something—”

“You will do no such thing,” he interrupted. “I was the one who did this to you, and I must be the one to remedy it.”

And, well, pancakes were a pretty nice way of saying sorry. 

After their simple breakfast, the pair sat reading, Charlotte still in Loki’s bed. The door to the bedroom stayed open and every so often, another stray Avenger would saunter past, casting strange looks into the room at the pair of unlikely friends. They read and read and read some more, exchanging interesting words and passages along the way. At some point she got Loki to admit that mortal authors weren’t really THAT bad, and soon after, he admitted to "loving" the story of Frankenstein. 

It was odd, but not in the same way that the morning of... _that..._ had felt odd. This side of him, lax and still just six feet away. It almost scared her, that maybe it was an effect of the mind control and it would all go away soon. She’d never spent so long with him not talking about combat, about her weaknesses, or something he wanted from her.

“I didn’t harm your wings, did I?” he asked quietly after a period of silent reading.

Charlotte looked up and raised her eyebrows. That was a bit suddenly. “No, not directly. They got pinned between me and the wall, but they’re pretty strong.”

“I see. Nevertheless, I apologize.”

She nodded and watched him avoid eye contact with her. Was it sincere? Or had one of the others pressured him into it sometime yesterday? She didn't know, but she couldn’t remember him ever apologizing before. 

She realized she was supposed to respond. “Why can’t I speak to the others with my mind?” she asked him, mostly to break the silence.

“Because they are not telepathic.”

“So my father was, then.”

“So it would seem,” he answered, turning the page in his book. “But you have far more empathic capabilities than I do. I believe my telepathy makes direct communication easier for you.”

“So… I’m better at emotions than I am at words?”

“Mentally, yes.”

Charlotte chewed her lip and pushed her glasses up her nose. “So I can influence people’s emotions.”

“You can, though those emotions are not necessarily their own. You must be careful with that ability, however. If you constantly allow someone free access to your own happiness, peace, or joy, they will no longer be able to create their own.”

“So, my abilities can become like… drug abuse,” Charlotte asked with a frown.

“An addiction," he nodded. "However, we’re more concerned with how you can use this against enemies. You could probably blind them, put them to sleep, or…” He trailed off and wrinkled his brow at her. “Have you not been told all of this by your father?” he asked.

Charlotte frowned. “He wasn’t around, Loki. Ever,” she said sharply, glaring at the book in her hands. Loki shut his mouth, startled by her statement. He dropped the subject promptly and returned his gaze to his own book, both annoyed by her attitude and pleased with himself for getting a teaspoon of information from her. “I’m sorry.” She sighed and rubbed her sore neck. “I’m grouchy.”

“I suppose you can be forgiven,” Loki replied with a grin.

***

Drip

_Drip_

_**Drip** _

_**Drip** _

_Charlotte stood alone in the darkness, hands clenched against the stifling heat. Her muscles quivered and sweat dripped from her brow. She reached her hands out, feeling for anything. She took a step but slipped, landing on her side in hot, sticky liquid._

_She just needed to see._

_She squeezed her eyes shut as blinding overheads switched on, bathing the room in color._

_Her vision adjusted._

_She looked down._

_**Blood.**_

_Charlotte jumped up and scrambled to the wall, soaked in red. Glancing up, she froze. Bodies hung suspended from the ceiling, stomachs parallel to the floor. Their wrists and ankles were secured with wire. Their chests, contorted toward the ground as their backs buckled, were savagely torn open. Hearts littered the floor and blood spread like paint, staining everything it touched. At the end of the large, white room stood a figure._

_Loki._

_He was covered in blood. His face was pale and the open wounds on his body told a story. His eyes were glued to Charlotte, wide and glistening with unshed tears._

_“Who did this?!” Charlotte called, choking on the vile stench. Loki’s chest heaved._

_“You did.”_


	16. EMN

Charlotte jerked awake with a gasp, bolting upright from beneath the covers as if to shake off the oily feeling left behind.

A nightmare.

She wiped the sweat from her brow, flopping back onto her pillows with a huff. The gruesome images were burned into her brain. She tossed and turned, willing her mind to be quiet, begging her body to relax, but it was no use. Finally she reached over and picked up her phone for the time: 3 a.m.

Loneliness crept in around her like sucking the air out of a vacuum sealed bag. Maybe, just maybe Loki was still awake. She slipped on an over-sized shirt and shorts and crept across the hall, taking a deep breath before knocking softly on his door.

To her dismay, he did not answer. Frowning, she decided perhaps a cup of tea would help.

The kitchen was eerily cold and dimly lit this time of night. The size of the dark room sent chills up her spine, reminding her all too much of her horrific nightmare. She set the electric kettle and grabbed the largest mug she could find, placing a vanilla chai teabag in it along with two spoonfuls of honey. How she wished her partner was awake—

“You rang?”

Charlotte jumped and would have screamed, if not for Loki’s quick thinking. He clamped a hand over her mouth and held her close so she didn’t fall. Embarrassing tears watered her eyes. “Loki!” she whispered the moment he moved his hand. “You scared me to death!” 

The god looked on without a word to leave his lips, completely unprepared for such a reaction. She felt him probe her mind and his expression morphed from confusion to compassion.

“Something is wrong,” he muttered. He still held her close with his arm comfortingly around her waist. She briefly considered hiding it, but decided that between his telepathy and her empathy, that would be a waste of both their time. She sagged in his arms and laid her head on his chest, once again surprising him speechless. He left his other arm at his side, unsure of himself or what she wanted.

“I had a horrible dream,” she croaked, her voice weary both from injury and sleep.

“I see,” he replied softly. The button on the kettle clicked. He released her quickly and moved to pour her tea, then stir and hand it to her. He placed his hand on her back and began to guide her back toward her room. “Now it is time for bed; it’s too late to be awake.”

“Please don’t make me go back to sleep.” She tried to stop walking but grew sleepier as they went, unable to resist his prodding. “I don’t want to.” Loki smiled a little, amused by her childishness. She was so exhausted she barely knew what was going on, and doubtless would not remember it anyway.

"Woah, sleeping beauty." Tony backed up to keep from colliding with Charlotte as she rounded the corner. He narrowed his eyes and glanced from Loki to his partner. "Late night snack?" he asked. Loki sighed.

"Bad dream," Charlotte mumbled sleepily. "Didn't feel like going back to sleep."

Tony shook his head. "Sounds like it's time for an EMN," he smirked.

Charlotte frowned. "What's an EMN?"

Tony sauntered across the room and pulled a box of popcorn bags out of a cabinet.

"Jarvis, activate EMN protocol 'Nightmare.'"

"Yes, sir. Shall I assemble the team?"

"Just whoever's up."

Pink neon illuminated the living room. The TV switched on and displayed a selection of comedy films. The elevator activated and in seconds, Clint and Steve stepped into the room. Steve nodded at Loki and moved to pour some tea for himself. Clint patted Charlotte's shoulder, narrowly avoiding her wing.

"How's your neck, kid?" he asked, studying the bruising pattern.

"S'okay. Still hurts to talk," she replied. He began to tell some story that sounded really fake but probably wasn't, about how he got into a fight with a guy who specialized in close-combat and choked him with a snake. Loki rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw, and Charlotte widened her eyes as he thought a little too loud.

' _Norns, strengthen me not to impale him.'_

Charlotte giggled both out loud and mentally. She watched his face carefully and smiled proudly when she saw him relax. He avoided looking at her though, knowing she'd won. When the room finally stopped moving, Tony glanced at her proudly. The couch had been morphed into one ginormous circular bed with seats for everyone. Popcorn was popping and by now, Nat had joined them as well.

Tony spread out his arms. "Emergency Movie Night," he presented. Charlotte laughed and sipped her tea. "Protocol 'Nightmare.' Only comedy movies tonight."

They were eventually joined by Thor and spent the next six hours watching funny movies and eating popcorn. Loki even joined in on the fun. Charlotte couldn't keep herself from laughing as Loki baffled his brother by magically moving his drink every time he set it down. Tony kept making snarky comments about the characters' flirting, and Clint and Nat would throw popcorn at the TV whenever something sad happened.

This was her family now. She loved it. She loved them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editor's Note:
> 
> More fluff, because Emily is nice like that and the next chapter— ah, wait, no, I shouldn't spoil. Anyways, you should all thank our dear author, because otherwise the only thing that I would write would belong under the hurt/no comfort tag.
> 
> -V
> 
> Author's Note:
> 
> A BIG, SQUISHY, WARM HUG to our amazing editor! We've fallen once again into an immutable rhythm of technicality alongside emotion. As usual, Viy grounds my narrative and injects it with shots of humanity. Thank you for riding with us this far! We are so excited for what's yet to come!


	17. Ice Cream Sundae

“It looks like your throat is mostly back to normal, as it should be after two months. It might still be a little tender if you strain it too far, but you’re good to go.” Bruce removed the film wrapped around her neck. “Thanks for being my excuse to test out the X-ray wrap,” he said. Charlotte smiled.

“Course. Anything for science,” she joked, hopping down off the table.

“Don’t forget to be stretching your wings, by the way. You don’t want to overload them.”

“I won’t, thanks dad.”

Bruce gave an awkward laugh as Loki entered the room. “Loki, hey. Could you take a look at my photosynthetic imaging generator? I want to test if the images are as accurate as yours.”

“If I must,” Loki replied, pretending to be annoyed. Charlotte rolled her eyes, knowing by now how much he loved to be needed. She sat down on the floor and did a few stretches, leaning side to side while extending her wings. They were decently sore. Loki had been drilling her flying ability for the last week. It felt amazing to get off the ground, but she hadn’t worked up the courage to really take flight yet. She could tell her partner was starting to get frustrated with her. He’d begun a habit of shutting her out of his emotions, claiming he was trying to train her to break through thicker barriers, but she knew he was trying to hide.

What she didn’t quite understand was why. In spite of their quarreling points, the pair had grown in chemistry and success in mock-combat… sort of. They’d made it through the course once.

Charlotte sighed and stood, preparing to go find a book and a warm spot outside in the late-spring weather. An idea popped into her mind, however.

“Loki!” she exclaimed, turning toward the pair as they dissected science with magic. He glared at her with a look to which she had grown accustomed.

“Do not startle me. I could have—”

“Yes, I know. I just had an idea,” she replied. His disapproving glares no longer scared her.

“Go on,” he prompted.

“Wanna go get an ice cream?”

Loki frowned. “I believe Stark keeps the freezer well-stocked.” 

“Yes but we could go to Coldstone and get actual cones,” she explained. “Pleeeease? You can use magic to hide my wings!”

He sighed and motioned for her to go. “I suppose it would not do for my illusion spells to suffer from disuse.”

An hour later, Charlotte pulled into a parking spot along Main Street in town. Loki had spent the ride mostly quiet, listening to her go on about how badly she wanted contacts because glasses were such a hassle.

“Your glasses are one of humanity's more innovative inventions,” he said at length as they exited the vehicle. "Do not speak of them so harshly when they suit your figure as well as they do."

Charlotte stopped speaking for the first time since they left the compound. That was a pretty clear compliment, for Loki-speak. “You like them?” she asked, pushing them up her nose. "Really?"

He scoffed. “I may not for very long if you keep asking.” She watched his analytical gaze fan over their surroundings and reminded herself to stay on guard. You never knew what could happen when you’re not paying attention, but she was, just... not to their surroundings.

He was wearing black jeans and a gray flannel. They complimented his green eyes and dark hair, which he had pulled back into a bun after a long discussion about getting it out of his face for combat. In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have been so surprised that he knew how to take care of and fix his own hair when he had probably been doing it for longer than she'd been alive.

"C'mon, aren't you excited to be out of the compound?" she pressed, trying to at least get a smile out of him. 

"What excitement is there to be found in a place so mundane?" he replied.

“You’re grumpy today,” Charlotte observed. She pushed him with her shoulder as they walked.

“I am not,” he snapped back, then frowned at his own reaction. “Though I suppose I grow weary of bickering with you.”

“Well you are most certainly not helping your case.” She marched across the street, ignoring Loki’s warning for her to look both ways. The god bounded after her, narrowly dodging a speeding sports car.

“You really ought to be more careful,” he bit out, grabbing her arm. He felt her wings flutter against his chest.

“Let go,” she muttered. He pulled her to a stop and forced her to face him.

“I did not intend to insult you.”

“Loki, you’ve been pushing me and pushing me for weeks to meet your standards and do what you want, and the moment I want to do something, you’ve got to have a crappy attitude the whole—”

A sudden crash reverberated across the pavement. Loki grabbed Charlotte and shielded her with his body as debris flew through the air. She pushed back, straining to see. In the middle of the intersection, a massive eighteen-wheeler had tipped over. As the pair watched, a minivan careened around it, hit the curb, and flew into a construction sight, knocking the heavy, ten-story scaffolding loose. Below it, vehicles began to swerve and pile up in a matter of seconds.

“Loki, the scaffolding—”

“Oh for the Norns' sakes, the _idiocy_ of your kind," he hissed, already headed toward the center of the ongoing pile-up. "You handle the workmen,” he ordered over his shoulder.

“The what? Loki, wait! I— I can’t do this!” she called, running after him. “I can’t get that high! I’ll drop them! Loki!”

“Damn you, Iva. Fly!” he commanded, casting a blur of green in her direction. Her body launched into the air for a millisecond before she began to descend. She frantically beat her wings against the wind, shaking her head. She had to do this. He was right. Looking down, she saw Loki begin to pull people from the vehicles and several duplicates direct onlookers with their phones out away from the scaffolding.

“Ah—!” Her attention was drawn to the workmen on the scaffolding. The ladders had fallen on impact. They were trapped.

“Stay still!” she called back, flying toward them.

But then the scaffolding began to fall.

Charlotte reached the structure without a moment to spare, straining against gravity to push the heavy metal structure back toward the building. If it fell now, it would crush the hundreds of people now gathered below. Loki continued to move debris and rescue the bystanders with sparks of emerald magic as Charlotte grunted under the weight. “Hurry up!” she screeched, her voice breaking.

**CLANG**

A pipe shifted, cracked, and burst off the scaffolding, falling below. It smashed down atop the vehicle Loki stood by as he pulled a woman and her baby from the passenger seat.

The woman screamed.

The upper level of scaffolding began to crumble.

Charlotte kicked off the platform closest to her and launched upward, supporting it from higher up. The workmen had begun to make their way down, and ambulances were arriving on the ground.

“Loki, I can’t hold it!” she cried as it buckled. “Loki!!” Her wings ached. Her head hurt. She could no longer see her partner. She pushed and pushed, her wings stiff and sore.

“ _Almost done.”_ His voice came through her mind loud and clear, though breathy, as though he’d been running a marathon.

“Hurry!” she called back, both verbally and mentally. She peeked down below once more and saw him carrying a child out of the fray. She searched below and found that no one was left in the pile of wreckage. No emotional output. There were still two men on the second level of scaffolding. If only she could…

Let go.

The structure fell.

She dropped like a ton of bricks.

All too close to the ground, she spread her wings, caught the breeze, and flew directly toward the men, grabbing them both by the hand just as the metal came crashing down.

The last thing she saw was _green_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editor's Note:
> 
> Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, theyds and beyond! For an upcoming chapter, we'd like you to send in questions to Loki for this imagine prompt:
> 
> _Imagine you reside within Earth 616, the main setting of much of the MCU. It is nearly two years post-Battle of New York, and you are scrolling through your Twitter feed, the #NewAvengers hashtag still on Trending after a few days._
> 
> _There had been breaking news of a superpowered duo rescuing people, followed closely by an interview courtesy of Stark Industries revealing that its for the winged-lady and the terrorist from two years ago, of all people!_
> 
> _Now, a twitter account with the handle lupin has started a live, and it's him. Loki._
> 
> _He's... taking questions?_
> 
> What would you ask?
> 
> -V


	18. Public Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:  
> The side of domesticity they never show us: every public person has a public image.  
> Also, Please don't forget to comment your questions for Loki and/or our darling Charlotte!
> 
> Editor's Note:  
> On the plus side, here's your prescribed dosage of crack that comes with each of our brainstorming sessions. We simply decided to keep it in, this time, resulting in a chapter that's twice as long as usual. You're welcome!
> 
> -V

"Yesterday, an eighteen-wheeler tipped over on the intersection of North and Main, causing a twelve-car pile-up and the collapse of ten stories of scaffolding from a nearby construction sight. In a shocking turn of events, former enemy and current Avenger Loki of Asgard was spotted pulling victims from their cars and carrying children to safety. Even more shocking, however, was his companion. Who is this mystery woman? See for yourself."

Footage rolled on the television screen.

Charlotte forcing heavy scaffolding in place, beating her wings.

Directly underneath, several duplicates of Loki ushering bystanders away, the real one carrying an unconscious woman from the wreckage.

Charlotte zooming down to rescue the workmen as the metal structure collapsed.

Loki ripping the door off a crushed vehicle and pulling three young children out. 

“Well,” said Clint as the reporter returned, “How was the ice cream?”

“You’re gonna have to talk to them,” Tony said. “I can set up a press interview for you guys, and Fury's probably sending someone with cue cards our way right now.”

Charlotte sighed. “I don’t… I can’t do that. My phone is already blowing up. My Instagram follower count has quadrupled.”

“Welcome to the Public Relations side of things," Steve shot her a half-hearted smile. "Sometimes saving people is as much social as it is physical.”

Clint snorted. "Yeah, Wonder boy here should know. I'm pretty sure all of us here know about his PSAs, barring the alien duo."

Charlott stifled a laugh, having heard tell of them from her students many times before. Loki rolled his eyes. "You speak for the oaf alone. If you had an ounce of shame, Captain, then this would have made wonderful blackmail material for the older generation. Stark, what does Agent Hill mean by this?" he called, holding up his phone. 

"List of things you may absolutely not do during the photoshoot and interview. It's a general thing they send to us every time, mostly for me and Steve since we deal in this more than the others, but they probably updated it for you guys." 

“Photoshoot—? No,” Loki snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I will not be made into some erotic symbol for your realm’s young people to drool over.”

“Too late for that,” Natasha interrupted, sharing her screen with Clint, who burst out laughing. They transferred the image onto the television screen. A series of headlines and tweets appeared on a news app:

Felixtho @jopping18 - 1h

ok guys hear me out i know he basically levelled ny but hes clearly different now and he could step on me and i would thank him eye-

Comments 267 | Retweets 2.5k | Likes 18k 

**“Woman Files For Divorce After Husband Says He Would Sleep With Loki”**

**“Science Today: Can Gods Reproduce with Humans? What Loki Lovers Should Know…”**

@hailthepagangods - 2h

wait does anyone know how accurate the myths are bc he's supposed to be odin's blood brother but thor called him brother in that one news clip??? 

Comments 69 | Retweets 1.8k | Likes 27k 

Pinned Comment on @hailthepagangods tweet

pls guys I need to know if he's a furry DOES SLEIPNIR EXIST

read more 1286

Clint couldn’t contain his laughter as the final tweet was read aloud. “Are you though?” he asked between gasps.

"A fine demonstration of how painfully terrible your kind is at recording truth," Loki sneered, and Charlotte realized quickly that he was misinterpreting the team’s jesting. She discreetly caught his hand in hers and gave it a short tug before letting go.

“Can you come pull a pitcher down from the top cabinet for me? I can’t reach and I wanna make lemonade,” she said quietly. He nodded and followed her into the kitchen, just out of hearing from the others. “Loki, they’re not serious. Especially Clint.”

“This is their revenge,” he muttered, clenching his fist angrily.

“No,” Charlotte argued. “They do that to each other all the time. Loki, this is them accepting you, not alienating you.”

He shook his head, bringing the pitcher down to meet the granite counter with an audible _clink_. “We need to work on your flight, tomorrow. You barely held up those iron bars yesterday.”

Charlotte smiled to herself. Changing the subject meant he knew she was right.

Their small bubble of peace was ruined when Tony stepped into the kitchen, waving his phone. “I’ve set you two up for a photoshoot and a series of interviews. Better get ‘em out of the way now.”

She groaned. “When are they?” 

“Tomorrow morning.”

***

Flash. Command. Shot, click, flash.

The camera crew fired away at their two subjects for well over an hour. Their female subject was dressed in navy skinny jeans and black wedge sneakers. Her cobalt top matched her companion’s black shirt, both tight-fitting and as flattering as possible.

Most of their photos were together. Loki hated the fuss over his hair, which he thought looked fine, and she loved the constant upkeep of her professionally styled make-up. Because you know, how often does a girl get a make-up artist at her beck and call?

Charlotte couldn’t resist the urge to laugh as her partner reacted to the poses they were asked to take, but she always talked him into it. The photographers didn’t quite make them pose like a couple, but it was close.

“Sir, if you could stand behind her. Yes, perfect. Now keep your body straight but turn your head down to look at her— great.”

“ _The world will soon believe we are betrothed,”_ he thought to her with a grimace. She giggled, resulting in a scolding from the photographer.

Then the call to "Wrap it up, everyone!" was given, and they were being rushed into the next room, pushed into into seats, and handed clip-on microphones. Charlotte’s head was swirling from the constant movement, and when she finally focused again, Loki was staring at her expectantly. She glanced up to see a camera pointed directly at her and a man across from them watching her.

“I— I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” she stuttered.

The interviewer laughed, and Loki shot a smirk to the camera while telling her, ' _He asked how long we have been Avengers. Mind your words_.' “We've resided with them long enough for their influence to rot her brain, as you can see. Do not be fooled by how put-together they may seem on film— at the end of the day, they are all idiots. I'm almost afraid that I won't be able to escape it much longer." 

His long-winded non-answer gave her just enough time to collect her thoughts for when the interviewer turned his sights back to her. "I joined in an official capacity three months ago, but just like everyone else, I haven't stopped training." 

"That's good to hear. Now, a hot topic of discussion these days are centered on your wings." With this, the screen to their side played some shaky footage of her from yesterday. Charlotte pointedly didn't turn to look, but she caught a glimpse of blue-grey. "Have you always had your wings? I see they're out now, and I have to say, they're even more beautiful in person."

"Thank you. I, um, I've always thought of them as a gift, of sorts."

“I see! Here, in the footage," the screen rewound to just before the incident, and he pointed at the two on the sidewalk. "How do you keep them concealed in your day-to-day?"

Shoot. She glanced at Loki, palms sweating, and thankfully he got the message. "Now, it's unfortunate that our training never got around to covering interviews, but that would be telling, no?"

"Of course, of course. Well, that just means that our audience can rest assured that every answer is as authentic as possible! Speaking of authentic, Loki— can I call you Loki? There's been a sudden surge of videos online highlighting your signature green magic in the Avengers' two public confrontations from these past few months. Any comment on that?"

He inclined his head. "Merely helping where I could, although I believe they functioned doubly as tests of my individual ability."

"You say individual, but it's well known that the Avengers often function in pairs. You guys are each others' partners, yes?" They nodded. "How do you feel about that?”

Loki left his gaze on Charlotte a second longer before answering the question. “Charlotte is a talented young woman with an aptitude for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Luckily, I am gifted with eternal patience.”

The interviewer smiled awkwardly, not quite able to tell if Loki was joking or not. Charlotte huffed and folded her arms, a teasing smile curling her lips. “And Loki is an exasperating grump who can’t function as a team to save his life,” she shot back, earning a grin from him.

The interviewer smiled and glanced down at his cards. "It seems like you two did pretty well two days ago. Sounds like 'right place, right time' to me!"

"Yeah, we'd just gone out for ice cream—" a discreet nudge from her partner cued her to discontinue that thought. "It's, um, part of our duties to do routine checks to get a feel of the general public, and the others go all the time, too."

"That sounds a bit like celebrities going undercover in public," the interviewer mused, and Charlotte sent up her thanks that she hadn't accidently sent them down an awkward path of inquiry. “I'm assuming that you're the more familiar of you two with pop culture, Charlotte, but have either of you heard about the fandoms that are forming?”

“A fandom,” Loki repeated, giving his head the slightest tilt.

Charlotte burst out laughing. “He has a fandom now?”

“He does! He does,” the man replied. “They’re calling themselves ‘Loki’s Army’.”

"I have made no move to amass a following, much less an army," he said sternly. "In the case that there any who still hold me to my initial goal when I first stepped foot within this city, the official details behind that regrettable period of time have since been released. I... am not the same person as I was then."

_What? Why would he..._

_oh._

_Oh!_

One of the producers off-stage caught the interviewer's attention for a moment, and Charlotte took the chance to explain. "They're not actually an army,” Charlotte elaborated. “A fandom is a group of people, stereotypically girls, but guys just as involved, who all love and pursue knowledge of a celebrity, literary character, or something of the sort.”

Loki sighed. “The very thing I told Stark I would not become?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Charlotte said with a grin, and with that the interview continued.

The rest of the questions went smoothly. Riding off of that moment of levity, the press focused on Loki. They wanted to know what changed.

_What was it like being mind controlled?_

"I would direct you to the press release from several months prior, but it was certainly an experience that does not bear repeating."

_Did you know you’re being considered a hero?_

"I am aware that I am on a federally assembled unit that often has a hand in rescuing civilians and thus preserving the emotional well-being of their mothers, yes. I suppose it comes with the job."

_You saved fifty lives!_

"No, really? Are we counting animals? Because I am certain there was a well-bred Siamese in that count somewhere, and I have half a mind to track it down again."

Loki seemed to enjoy answering most of the questions until the interviewer went off-script in a specific direction. "Are you and Charlotte dating?"

She choked on her water as he easily answered, “Neither her nor I are currently searching for romantic prospects,” steering the topic back to safer waters with the new lady easily after the producers sent the interviewer out for asking the banned question.

It wasn't something she had considered until one of the SHEILD agents came over to brief the pair, and while they definitely weren't dating, she could see how the outing might be interpreted that way. Taking someone out for fun, right on the heels of an argument sounded like a couple-y thing to do, sure, but she took a moment to quash the flutters in her stomach at the thought. The two of them were field partners, they were supposed to compliment each others' abilities and cover each others' flaws.

Like what Loki was doing right now, she noted gratefully, drawing the attention away from her and onto himself. The photoshoot had been nice, in a novel sort of way, but nothing about this interview was in her comfort zone.

And maybe Loki was skimming her surface thoughts, because his shoe suddenly moved to touch tips with her own. She chanced a look, but he was facing the camera again, a disarming smile plastered on for all the world to see— or maybe it was real. He was certainly enjoying this much more than she was, but better one of them than none.

After the interview ended, the pair ended up dodging a newly-formed crowd of paparazzi, ducking into a bookshop. Thankfully, the old lady manning the counter seemed to have no problem with them staying a while, so they took turns picking books out for each other and bought about six. On the way to the car, Charlotte looped her arm through Loki’s.

“I think you like being the center of attention,” she teased, leaning against him casually.

He shrugged. “You did not field many of their silly questions. Why?”

It was Charlotte’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t really like the first interviewer, because he—”

“—continually fixated his gaze on your figure—”

“—and I didn’t like the second girl because all she did was—”

“— adjust her posture to amplify her breasts—”

“—and my gosh, that last little girl was so cute I couldn’t help but watch you two go back and forth.” They fell into silence. When they finally reached the car, Loki opened the passenger door and helped Charlotte into her seat. He’d learned to drive since moving to the Avengers' compound, and preferred being in control of the vehicle. Charlotte pushed her glasses up her nose and glanced over at her partner. “I had fun today,” she observed quietly.

Loki barely had to think for his response. “As did I.”

"You know..." she began, the mischief in her voice audible. Loki almost groaned. "You never answered Clint. _Did you_ have sex with a horse?"


	19. Partner, Teacher, Friend

“Fly faster, go higher, blah, blah, blah…” Charlotte mocked her partner as she sipped her water, watching Tony and Clint have a push-up contest on the other side of the room. She was just so tired of being pushed to her limits, and it had been a hard week already. The pair could barely leave the compound without getting swarmed by fans.

“And here I thought I had drilled more into your head than that," came from behind her. She yelped, startled, hands instinctively flying out in self-defense.

Loki caught them easily with a frown. "While you are at it, add ‘strike harder’ to your list.”

Charlotte freed her wrists with a twist. “Not fair!” she exclaimed, shoving his chest. “I want to do more hand-to-hand training, Loki. I’m better with my hands. Once I learn that, then we can work with my wings.”

“No. Your wings are your most unique asset. I would rather you learn how to maneuver with them and _in_ them beforehand, lest you pick up the habit of dragging them around like deadweight.”

“But I’m trying—”

“Then try harder,” he replied easily, brushing off her frustration.

' _Stop nagging me,'_ she thought as her wings fluttered.

“My ‘nagging’ will cease once your performance is up to standard.”

' _Since when do you just read my mind whenever you want?'_ she complained, extending her wings and shaking them out. Loki shrugged.

“Since I deemed it appropriate.”

“If you can invade… ' _my privacy, I can invade yours_ ,' she retorted, switching back and forth.

Loki scoffed. _'I_ _am your instructor_.'

“You are my _partner_ ,” Charlotte bit back. As she turned away, Loki caught her arm. Before he could speak, Charlotte… well. 

Even the best of us lose our temper sometimes.

“Okay. Alright. This—" she snapped, ripping her arm from his grasp. “—stops now. You do not own me; you do not get to command me. I don’t march to the beat of your drum, ' _and_ _I certainly don’t owe you anything. You are my equal,'_ and I will not be treated like a subordinate to satisfy your second-born, insecurity-fueled authority complex!”

"Oh, that’s rich, he returned without batting an eye at the sudden onslaught. "May I remind you that without me you would be a directionless broll, _'without the capacity to defend yourself in the slightest'._ "

"I could take lessons!" _'I bet there's plenty of those SHEILD people willing to teach me!'_

_'Do you truly think that any of their agents could beat me one on one,'_ "or even one on several?"

“Oh, so now you wanna know what I think? I think that you’re just— awful!” she screeched, grabbing her things. She stormed off to the elevator and pressed the button impatiently. As the doors flew open, however, Thor came sauntering out and right into her, knocking her back a couple of steps. Before he could even apologize, Charlotte huffed and rounded him, refusing to look up at the brothers as the doors slid shut.

“What have you done now, Loki?” Thor asked sharply.

Loki scowled. “I am not at fault, you boar,” he replied before snatching his water bottle from the bench and heading to the elevator himself.

Clint and Steve shared a look. “That was the _weirdest_ argument I've ever heard,” Clint mused. "Or, uh, didn't hear, for like half of it." When no one responded, he looked around mischievously. "Feel like they could've been more _low-key_ about it though— what?" he asked, brushing off Tony's punch.

***

Charlotte threw her things down on her bed and screamed into a pillow. He was so exasperating, like one of those edgy rich kids her students would complain about. Stupid thousand-year-old god being no better than a prepubescent teen, pushing his issues onto her—

Her phone buzzed as she fumed, and for a moment, she wondered if it was Loki. But no, he wouldn't apologize so quickly, and he was more the type to call than text. She picked the device out from its place, tossed haphazardly onto the bed, and checked the notifications. Nat.

**Did you just scream?**

**Sorry, wasn’t trying to be loud**

**What did he do**

**Literally Nat**

**third fight since the publicity started.**

**What’s got his panties in a wad?**

**Me, apparently!**

**He’s been pushing and pushing**

**and no matter WHAT I DO**

**Im STILL not good enough**

**He had the NERVE**

**to sit there and call himself my superior!**

**Dang.**

**I mean, I’d kick him, but that’s just me**

**Yeah well that’s just it**

**I CANT**

**Unfortunately**

**Give it time, Charlie**

**He’ll cool off**

**Charlie?**

**😉**

Charlotte sighed and dropped face-first back into the comfort of her pillow. Maybe she was being too touchy? She stood and glared at herself in the mirror.

“He’s just trying to help you get better, stupid,” she muttered. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Stubborn idiot.” She opened up Instagram, grimacing. She’d been tagged in hundreds of things. Headlines, videos, influencers. A fair number of them were asking if she and Loki were a couple.

“At this rate?” she scoffed to herself. “Not a chance.” Because, you know, you don’t typically want to put your boyfriend in a choke hold. “I mean, I guess I yelled first,” she whispered, wrapping her wings around her body like a blanket. She placed her phone gently on the nightstand, facedown. She’d let the stress of the publicity and the pressure of training get to her. Loki was only trying to help her.

Right?

***

Loki stood in the center of the shower's cool spray, seething. Authority complex? How _dare_ she.

Despite every fiber of him screaming to gather information on her, to poke and prod until all her weaknesses were laid bare, he had held himself back because she had done the same. A mutual understanding to not pry too deep into each others' histories. All that he ever pushed her in was for the sake of bettering herself, so that she would not _die_ from sheer inadequacy like every other mortal in this realm. Partners they may be, but by no means was Loki going to chain himself to another once more, even if it was for her protection.

A distance memory floated through his mind.

_Strike harder. Your seidr will not always be a viable asset. None of that until you have mastered hand-to-hand._

“Damn you, Odin,” he muttered, uncaring if the Allfather saw or heard.

There was knocking at the door. Of course, Thor would follow him. “By the Norns," he snarled, and crossed the room in four strides with nothing but a towel around his waist and his preferred dagger in hand. "I will spill your brains on the floor if—"

It wasn't Thor.

Loki dematerialized the weapon as a tear-stained Charlotte stood in his doorway, smaller than he had ever seen her. "Charlotte," he greeted coolly. "If you would excuse me for a moment," and then he slammed the door.

He was dressed when it next opened, green eyes scanning her face. Charlotte looked up at him, eyes shining and wet. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said softly. Her wings seemed to curl around her like an embrace, shrinking her body in comparison to his.

That someone so infuriating one moment could be so pitiful the next— no, he had not let go of his anger, but he could feel it dissipate a little. “And you have my apologies for the same,” he said, softening his tone as much as he could. Before he could stop himself, Loki had reached forward and caught the single tear that trailed down her cheek, startling them both. He quickly took a step back. “You have improved, significantly. You deserve some time to rest.”

“But not enough, right? I understand why you pushed me so much, I really do,” she said, fiddling at the edge of one wing. “I just… got overwhelmed. It’s been a lot to handle since the publicity thing started and… I felt like you were upset at me for not doing as well as you’d wanted.”

A thin haze of despair made its way towards him, likely brushing against his mental barriers on accident. Loki sighed as it pushed it aside. “Norns, Iva," he carded a hand through his locks. "If you had informed me prior, I would not have pushed you so.”

“I'll... keep that in mind for the future," she murmured. "Can I, um. Ask you a question?” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Why do you insist on calling me ‘Iva?’”

He raised an eyebrow, then shook his head, a small smirk playing around the edges of his lips. “That is for me to know, and for you to ponder as you rest. Have a good evening, Iva.”

This time, the door was shut gently with nothing more than a _click._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Don't forget to keep submitting questions for Loki, my lovelies! I hope you're enjoying the developing friendship. Everyone fights, and everyone has to work through it. Never be too proud to ask forgiveness <3
> 
> Editor's Note:
> 
> Dear readers, let me be the one to bring good news to your attention: this is a crosspost, and we are actually mainly located on Quotev! Come say hi at [https://www.quotev.com/story/13515469/From-the-Gods/1] :3

**Author's Note:**

> _What good are wings without the courage to fly?_   
>  _-Atticus_


End file.
